


Bound

by Sharkdiver1980



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack/Drama, F/M, lots of smut, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-07-19 16:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 57,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7369381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharkdiver1980/pseuds/Sharkdiver1980
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a freak accident occurs while attempting to destroy one of Voldemort’s horcruxes that sends Hermione back in time to the year 1947, she finds herself forcefully subjected to a new law put in place by the ministry to counteract the damage to the wizarding population done by Grindelwald. It was no wonder she had never heard of Proclamation no.1682, otherwise known as “The Marriage Law”, since it had obviously been repealed almost as quickly as it was instated. The problem was, she had already been assigned a husband.  HG/TMR</p><p>
  <img/>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've cornered the market in a new Genre: Crack/Drama. That is the best that I can categorize this as. This was for fun, it has humor, seriousness, and lots of drama llamas. Obviously AU, since this doesn't actually happen in the book…LOL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](Bound)  
> 

**Chapter 1**

 

 

“Do it, Hermione, _Now_!” Ron shouted to her as she kneeled above the horcrux poised to destroy it once and for all.

 

Hermione held the basilisk fang in her hand with a grip so tight, her knuckles had turned white. Hufflepuff’s cup lay before her on the damp floor of the chamber of secrets, and her eyes were tightly closed trying to keep the treacherous whispers emanating from it from invading her mind. She tried desperately to ignore the feeling that it was verbalizing her deepest and darkest secrets, thoughts she had never uttered to another living soul. It reminded her that no matter how hard she studied, or how hard she pushed herself, that she would never earn the respect that she so desperately craved in the magical world; that she was _nothing_.

  
“Hermione, don’t listen to it!” Ron pleaded from beside her.

 

Strengthening her resolve, she took a deep breath, and her hand absently moved to her chest in a movement that she had done a million times before, as she plunged the fang into the cursed cup. Then there was nothing but blackness…

 

Looking back, she would not be able to recall clearly the chain of events that led to her current predicament, other than the cosmically bad timing of accidentally setting off the time turner while attempting to destroy a horcrux.

 

Ever since her third year, she had developed a nervous habit of reaching to her chest to make sure the time turner she had been given still remained in place. She had been so afraid of losing it, that now, checking to make sure it still sat against her breastbone became an unconscious habit. She really ought to have turned it in after her third year, but, the over achiever in her wouldn’t hear of it. So, it was with utter shock and humiliation that she found herself in the bowels of Hogwarts in the year 1947; the year the horcrux had been made, apparently. The fang was gone from her hand, as was the cup, and Ron was nowhere to be found. She was alone, kneeling on the ground in the darkened chamber of secrets when the realization hit her that the Basilisk was still very much alive in there somewhere, so with that thought, she picked herself up off the floor and ran faster than a stampeding hippogriff towards the tunnel that led to the second floor girl’s lavatory. She thankfully found a lever that forced the sinks to shift from the inside and dove from the tunnel, landing on the wet stone floor. It seemed Myrtle, who had now been dead for just over four years, had flooded the bathroom again. She had no idea how to close the passage since she couldn’t speak Parseltongue, and didn’t want to risk the Basilisk’s escape into the school, so she exited the bathroom and warded the doors as strongly as she could. She did the only thing she could think of to do, and ran as fast as she could to Professor Dumbledore’s office. She would explain the situation, and hopefully, he could find a way to seal the chamber and get her back to her own time. Her suspicions were confirmed that she was indeed in 1947 when an auburn haired professor Dumbledore opened his office door and pointed what she now knew was the Elder wand in her face. His watery blue eyes were notably missing their incessant twinkle.

 

“Stay where you are, lest I alert the aurors. Start with your name, and how you managed to breach the ancient wards of this castle. _Now_.”

 

Having never been on the receiving end of Professor Dumbledore’s wand, she hoped to never be again. He was downright _scary_.

 

She held up her hands in surrender, “Professor Dumbledore, My name is Hermione Granger, and I had an accident just now involving a time turner. I was a student at Hogwarts, you see, in the future. Please sir, I’m not sure how much of my predicament is safe to tell you, but There is a much more pressing matter that I must…”

 

“Inside. Now. This is not a conversation to be had in the hallway.” He said stepping aside and allowing her to enter.

 

“Now, Miss Granger, was it?” he said as he closed and warded the door behind her.

 

“Yes, sir, but please, I must tell you that the chamber of secrets is open, and I need your help to close it.” Hermione pleaded.

 

The professor stiffened, and looked at her suspiciously over his half-moon spectacles.

 

“Impossible. No one but the Heir of Slytherin can manipulate the chamber, much as it vexes me to say. How have you come by this information?” he asked, once again pointing his wand at her threateningly.

 

Hermione’s heart was pounding in her chest. _Did he suspect her of opening it?_ She supposed she did technically open it, but it was either that, or join Myrtle in the u-bend.

 

She held up her hands in surrender, “Professor, I know it’s open because I just came out of it. I had to open it from the inside to make my escape. The problem is, I don’t speak Parseltongue, to close it again, so I warded the bathroom doors until I could get some help.”

 

“Parseltongue, you say?” He sat back, his eyes widening as the pieces clicked into place.

 

Hermione looked at him curiously, wondering what he was thinking.

 

“Yes, the heir of Slytherin is a Parselmouth. The entrance is through one of the sinks in the girl’s lavatory on the second floor. The only way to open it is to speak to it in Parseltongue.” Hermione told him, unsure if she was telling him too much.

 

“I see. It seems my suspicions have indeed been confirmed.”

 

Now Hermione was really confused. _He didn’t think she was the heir of Slytherin, did he?_

 

“What suspicions, sir?” Hermione asked with trepidation.

 

“I suspected who was behind the attack four years ago when the chamber had first been opened by the Heir of Slytherin. Unfortunately, he was a very slippery snake and the blame fell to someone I now know to be innocent. It is not a mistake I will allow to happen again.” He told her seriously.

 

Hermione didn’t need Dumbledore to tell her he was talking about Tom Riddle. She had known that the professor had always suspected him, but ultimately it was Hagrid that took the blame. Now, with the information she had just given him, he now knew for certain Tom was the culprit.

 

“So what happens now Professor? I’m not supposed to be here. I need to get back to my own time, it’s a matter of life and death that I do.” Hermione pleaded now that he seemed to believe her story.

 

“Unfortunately, Miss Granger, I cannot use your testimony in this matter, since by doing so, you would have to divulge the nature of your presence here, which must not be allowed to happen. No one must now that you are a time traveller.” He told her

 

“I understand, Professor, but how can I get _back_?” Hermione felt like she was about to be sick…

 

“Miss Granger, It is with my deepest sympathy that I inform you that your return will not be possible.”

 

And with that statement, Hermione promptly fainted.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Hermione opened her eyes, immediately recognizing the hospital wing.

 

“Ron!” She called as she sat up abruptly, then immediately regretting it as the room began to spin once more.

 

“Easy now, Miss, You’ve got a nasty bump on your head. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.” The young mediwitch said from beside her. Hermione didn’t recognize her.

 

“Where’s…” she started to say before the events of the last few hours hit her like a ton of bricks. Ron wasn’t here. He wasn’t even born yet.

 

“I’ll notify Professor Dumbledore that you are awake. He was quite concerned for you, poor dear.” The mediwitch said before entering her office.

 

A short while later, Professor Dumbledore, along with a much older wizard who she recognized as Headmaster Dippet, from a portrait she had once seen, entered the Hospital wing and came to stand before her cot.

 

“Ah, Miss Jones, I am glad to see you are finally awake. Professor Dumbledore has informed me of your situation, and we will of course do everything we can to help. When you are feeling better, we can discuss your arrangements.” Headmaster Dippet told her.

 

Hermione looked confused for a moment when he called her ‘Miss Jones’, but she quickly assumed Dumbledore had given him a fake name in order to protect her future identity. It stood to reason he had also concocted a story about how she had ended up there that had absolutely nothing to do with the truth. Hopefully, he would fill her in before she would be expected to answer any questions.

 

“Of course, Headmaster. Thank you for your hospitality.” Hermione answered politely.

 

“Think nothing of it, my dear. These have been very dark times, and Hogwarts will always offer help to those who seek it.”

 

Hermione smiled at the comforting words. She had heard Professor Dumbledore echo those same words many times in the future.

 

“Miss Jones, If Madame Hartwick is ready to release you, I’d be delighted to have you join me for lunch in my office, since I’m sure you must be quite hungry.” Professor Dumbledore offered.

 

“That would be lovely, thank you, Professor.” Hermione smiled. She was sure he would use the opportunity to fill her in.

 

The mediwitch who Hermione now knew was called Madame Hartwick stepped up to Hermione’s bedside handed Hermione one more potion.  
  
“This is just a simple pain relief potion, Miss Jones, drink that, and you are free to go.” The mediwitch told her.

 

Hermione took the vial from her hand and drank the potion, immediately feeling the throb in her head recede to a dull ache.

 

“Thank you” she said to the mediwitch before she bustled away. She stood on shaky legs, taking the arm that Professor Dumbledore had offered her. The feeling of hopelessness began to settle over her once more when she recalled that Professor Dumbledore had told her that there was no way for her to ever return home.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 

 

“I’m sure you must have questions, Miss Granger, but as I am sure you understand, I had to take the liberty of creating a new identity for you, so as to not draw suspicion. Henceforth, you are now Miss Hermione Jones. You are a muggleborn witch who was born and raised in Britain until the war with Grindelwald escalated. Your parents and yourself relocated to America. Now that Grindelwald has been defeated, you have decided to return to Britain, although your parents chose to stay. You have completed your magical education at the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You arrived at Hogwarts via portkey, which had been sent to you by me after our correspondence regarding a transfiguration apprenticeship under my tutelage. Traveling by portkey left you somewhat unsteady, and that is how you ended up in the hospital wing. Rest assured that I have forged all of the proper documents both from the Ilvermorny School, outstanding test scores by the way, as well as your citizenship papers for the ministry.”

 

She sat in stunned silence amazed at the lengths he had already gone to help her.

 

“I can’t thank you enough, professor.” Hermione told him, truly grateful for all of his help.

 

“You’re welcome Miss Jones. Now, please eat something.” He said as he pushed a tray of finger sandwiches toward her, and grabbed one for himself. Two glasses of pumpkin juice also appeared before them.

 

Hermione took one of the sandwiches and practically devoured it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she had been, but when she thought about the fact that she had essentially been living on the run for the last several months and steady meals were considered a luxury, she welcomed the opportunity to take her fill.

 

“Professor, where will I be staying?” she asked, not sure if they would allow her to stay at Hogwarts.

 

“You will accompany me to Hogsmeade this afternoon. A dear friend of mine owes me a favor, and I am certain she has a room available. You will be compensated under the terms of your apprenticeship, of course, so money should be of no concern.” He smiled at her for the first time over his spectacles, and she finally saw the familiar twinkle that she had so missed.

 

“Thank you, Professor, you have been most kind.” Hermione smiled, feeling like she could at least feel the floor under her feet again. Now that she had a means of supporting herself, and her life wasn’t in constant peril, she could also spend some time researching time travel. There had to be a way to get back, even if Dumbledore didn’t think it was possible. If there was even the slightest chance, she wasn’t going to rest until she found it.

 

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

“Ah, Madame Hilda. I’d like to introduce to you my new apprentice, Miss Hermione Jones. She has just recently traveled back to Britain from America.” Professor Dumbledore told the woman behind the bar of the Three Broomsticks.

 

Hermione shook the woman’s hand and took in her appearance. She was approaching middle age, with long blond hair that fell in ringlets over her shoulders. She could tell from her features that she must be related to Madame Rosemerta who ran the bar in the future.

 

“Nice to make your acquaintance” Hermione said politely.

 

“I suppose you’ll be needing a place to stay, then.” Madame Hilda nodded to Hermione before her eyes shifted back towards Professor Dumbledore.

 

“Yes, actually.” Hermione answered before the Professor interrupted.

 

“Miss Jones will be spending quite a bit of time at Hogwarts due to her apprenticeship, but I’m afraid as you know, living quarters are only provided at the castle for the staff and students. I was hoping that you can do this old man a favor, Hilda.” Professor Dumbledore smiled at the woman.

 

She pursed her lips, but finally said, “There is a room above the bar. Nothing fancy, mind you, but it’s clean. Rent is two galleons per month, and I don’t put up with any funny business.”

 

“Of course, Madame, that will be fine.” Hermione accepted the offer gratefully.

 

“You can move in whenever you like. Just come see me for the key when you are ready.” Madame Hilda told her.

 

“Thank you very much.” Hermione told her and gave a small smile to Professor Dumbledore.

 

“Well, now that that’s settled, will you join me for a drink, Miss Jones? I hear the students say that the butterbeer alone is worth the trip.” Professor Dumbledore asked her, his blue eyes sparkling with merriment.

 

Hermione laughed despite herself, “Of course professor.”

 

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

That same night, Hermione had procured the key to her new flat above the Three Broomsticks from Madame Hilda, since she needed somewhere to sleep. She had no belongings other than her wand and the clothes on her back. The professor had given her first month’s pay in advance so she could use it to purchase some proper attire for the 1940’s, as well as any thing else she would need. She would thankfully be able to eat the majority of her meals free of charge at Hogwarts, which made her happy, since the food really was excellent there.

 

The first few weeks had gone by, and Hermione found herself settling into a peaceful routine; wake up, have a cup of tea, shower and get dressed. She would then walk to Hogwarts and have breakfast in the Great Hall with the staff before having a brief meeting with professor Dumbledore to go over her apprenticeship duties. Mostly, the work consisted of grading papers, and assisting in classes while students were attempting some of the more complex transfigurations. She would then take lunch once more with the staff and students, and then he would allow her a free period for ‘Research purposes”, which was really just his way of allowing her to work on researching a way for her to return to her own time. After dinner in the Great Hall, she would complete any small tasks he might ask of her, such as delivering letters to the owlry, or returning books for him to the library. Once that was finished, she would return to her flat, and settle in with a good book and a cup of tea. It was during those quiet times at night, when her mind would drift to the future. She wondered whether Harry and Ron were still trying to destroy the horcruxes, and whether they had managed to destroy Lord Voldemort. She wouldn’t even entertain the thought that they wouldn’t succeed. She knew, realistically, that they hadn’t even been born yet, but, she imagined that she was just stuck in some alternate reality on one side, and they were in the true reality on the other side.

 

It was a shock the following morning when she arrived at the great hall for breakfast and saw the headline of the Daily Prophet:

 

**_Ministry approves Proclamation no.1682_ **

 

Hermione scanned her eyes down the page and read the article. Her breath caught in her throat. Why had she never heard of Proclamation 1682? Surely, had this bill passed, she would have read about it in the future. Her eyes widened as she read the contents of the article:

 

_In a progressive move by the British Ministry of Magic, the Board of Governors has passed Proclamation no.1682 by a narrow voting margin. The Proclamation was proposed as a measure to counteract the devastation to the wizarding population caused by the dark wizard Grindelwald, and as a good faith effort to the community to rally support to our muggleborn brethren by including them more fully within our magical society. By the terms of the Proclamation, every muggleborn wizard or witch over the age of consent will be required to marry a wizard or witch of no less than Half blood status. Couples who are married under the terms of this Proclamation will be obligated to produce a child within the first year of marriage. Any union that fails to produce a child within the allotted time frame will be dissolved and the individuals may be reassigned a new spouse. The Ministry of Magic reserves the right to conduct fertility testing in the cases of dissolved unions. Unions producing non-magical offspring will also be subject to dissolution. This law will go into effect beginning June 1, 1947._

 

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. She hardly ever had allowed herself to date, never mind entertain the idea of marriage! This was barbaric! How could the ministry think that creating a law such as this would be embraced by the community? Pureblood elitists would be outraged that the ministry was forcing them to ‘sully’ their bloodlines, and muggleborns would certainly feel like they were being used as breeding stock. She continued reading the article, feeling even more enraged:

 

_Petitions may be submitted to the ministry, however, matches will be made by the Department of Magical Families based on academic achievement records. Petitions will only be approved if they can provide sufficient justification for a match, and will also require two-thirds vote of approval by the board of Governors._

 

Hermione pushed her plate away, her appetite having left her. This couldn’t be happening.

 

As soon as she made her way to Professor Dumbledore’s office, she slammed his door a little more forcefully than she meant to, and paced anxiously in his office.

 

“I see you’ve read the Prophet this morning.” He said, sounding very tired.

 

“I have, and its barbaric! How can they do this?” She yelled, allowing some of her frustration to vent.

 

“I assure you, Miss Jones, I feel the same way. The Ministry, for all its ‘ _good intentions’_ are only exacerbating the problem. I have no doubt, however, that the backlash will be severe and swift, and before long this farce of a law will be repealed.”

 

Hermione nodded. If that were the case, that would certainly explain why it was never mentioned in any of the history books she had read. Taking a small bit of comfort in his words that the ministry would repeal the law before she would be affected by it, she did her best to put it out of her mind and continue with her day.

 

It was exactly two weeks later that the letter bearing the official ministry seal arrived at the window of her flat by owl. Hermione took the letter with trembling hands and broke the seal and read the contents:

 

_Congratulations Miss Hermione Jones,_

_Under the terms of Proclamation no. 1682, a match has been made for you by the Department of Magical Families. Based on your extremely impressive test scores, you have been matched with Tom Marvolo Riddle, and are hereby expected to notify the ministry of your nuptials within the fortnight. Should you fail to comply with the terms of the Proclamation, your wand will be confiscated and you will be apprehended by the Department of Magical law enforcement and sentenced to no less than seventy years in Azkaban._

_We wish you all the best on your upcoming marriage!_

_~Romilda Cattermole_

_Department of Magical Families_

 

 

Hermione dropped the letter and ran to the small loo in her flat where she promptly threw up. Not only was she now being forced to marry and reproduce like common chattel, she was now apparently engaged to Lord Voldemort. She idly wondered if he had received a similar letter, and she could only imagine how disgusted he must also be at the whole situation. She never would have imagined having anything in common with Voldemort, but she was pretty sure he was just as disgusted by this farce of a law as she was. Last she had spoken to Professor Dumbledore, he had told her that there had been significant pushback from the community, as was expected, and the next meeting of the Board of Governors was not set to convene until August 21, 1947. If there was no chance of the law being overturned until that time, she was well and truly _fucked_. According to the Ministry letter she had just received, they expected her to be married by June 14 th. As much as she had tried to avoid Tom Riddle altogether while she was forced to remain in the past, she realized that would now be impossible.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is still a WIP, so now that I am caught up to what is posted on FF.net, the updates will coincide with those, as I write it!! I hope you are enjoying this! Please leave a review!

**Chapter 3**

 

It was two days later that she had received another owl, this time from Tom Riddle himself, requesting a meeting. To say that Hermione was nervous was an understatement. She had never laid eyes on Tom Riddle, and had only managed to catch glimpses of Voldemort during the future. She knew he must still look human at least, which was of some miniscule comfort. The thought of potentially being married to snake face was a thought she couldn’t even wrap her brain around. Rather than sending a reply, she decided to pay him a visit at Borgin and Burkes where she knew he would be working. She arrived at the shop, and stood outside for some time, trying to work up the nerve to enter it. She finally managed to convince herself that she was in fact a Gryffindor, and that he wouldn’t kill her in the middle of the store in front of potential clients…at least she hoped he wouldn’t. She took a deep breath, and opened the door and stepped inside before she lost her nerve.

 

She heard the tinkle of the bell as the door opened, announcing her presence. She didn’t see anyone behind the counter, so she took a moment to look around, being very careful not to touch anything. She was sure that more than half the artifacts in the shop were cursed. She spotted a very familiar looking necklace encased in glass, sitting on a black velvet cushion. It was the necklace that had cursed Katie Bell just outside of Hogsmeade, in her sixth year; the very same necklace that had been intended for Headmaster Dumbledore.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” came a silky voice from behind her that made her jump back in surprise, colliding with a warm body.

 

He caught her in his arms, and as she looked up into his face, her breath caught in her throat. “Yes it is.” She breathed, not sure if she was still talking about the necklace.

 

“Yes, well, it is as deadly as it is beautiful, make no mistake.” He drawled still holding her in his arms. Hermione wasn’t sure if he was still talking about the necklace either.

 

She blinked up at him, and recovered herself, pulling back from his arms to put some space between them.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, Miss…” He offered politely

 

“Jones. Hermione Jones.” She answered, noticing a flicker of recognition pass over his face before he spoke again.

 

“I see. I wasn’t sure if you had received my owl, though I must confess, I hadn’t expected to see you quite so _soon_.” He replied smoothly.

 

“Yes, well, I was rather hoping we could work together to find a way out of this inconvenient arrangement.” She said sharply, not missing his insinuation as to why she came to him so quickly. It certainly wasn’t because she wanted to speed things along.

 

“I see.” He said with a hint of irritation in his voice. _Who did this mudblood think she was?_ She was rejecting _him?_

 

“Mister Riddle, I hardly think that being saddled with a wife is something that would be high on your priority list.” She said placing her hands on her hips in that bossy way that always drove Ron mad.

 

“How perceptive, Miss Jones, however, the fact that you presume to think you know me at all is admirable.” He said icily as he crossed his arms over his chest looking down his nose at her. _That was more like it._

 

“Look, obviously, neither one of us is exactly thrilled about this development, but it seems we either work together and find a mutually agreeable solution, or we’ll be sharing a cell in Azakaban.” She said flatly.

 

“Or, I could just kill you.” He looked at her, an evil smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

 

All the blood drained from Hermione’s face at his words. It was true, he already had killed his father, there was really nothing stopping him from killing her too. If she was out of the picture, it was unlikely that they would find another match for him before the bill was overturned. She had to think fast.

 

“You could, Although I think I can be far more valuable to you alive.” She said projecting a confidence that she wasn’t exactly feeling.

 

“Oh? And why is that? What does a _mudblood_ like you think that you can offer _me_?”

 

Her jaw clenched at his casual use of the slur, but she had to keep her cool if she was going to get out of this alive.

 

“I’m…I’m a Seer, you see.” Hermione lied smoothly, wanting to smack herself when the image of a bug-eyed Sybil Trelawney popped into her head. She couldn’t tell him she was a time traveler, but she could use some of the more innocuous bits of the information she had of the future to make this lie seem credible.

 

“A Seer?” He scoffed and lifted his eyebrow at her in disbelief. She certainly didn’t look like a seer, her eyes looked too bright.

 

“Yes. Why is that so difficult to believe?” She asked crossing her arms over her chest while he chuckled at her, the way someone would at a child.

 

“Because you don’t look like a seer to me.” He said condescendingly.

 

“Oh, perhaps you should enlighten me then on what a seer should look like, since you are apparently such an expert.” She hissed.

 

She had a temper like a hell cat, and he couldn’t help but be amused by it, “Well, for starters, you don’t have that glassy-eyed look about you. There is intelligence in your eyes. And you certainly don’t dress like any seer I’ve ever seen. Though, to be fair, your hair does quite fit the bill.” He said smirking at her

 

Had he just insulted her hair? Hermione balled her fists at her sides. She would _not_ slap Tom Riddle, she would _not_ slap Tom Riddle…

 

“Well, Mister _Horcruxes R Us_ , you clearly have no idea what you’re talking about!” she snapped before she clapped her hand over her mouth. _Crap_. She did not mean to say that…

 

She saw a look of surprise pass over his face, before he grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her into the back room. Before she could blink, his yew wand was pointing at her face.

 

_Shit._

 

“Start talking. _Now_. And don’t give me any of this seer bullshit, because I know that is a lie.”

 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I could be valuable to you. I know things. Things that could be very beneficial to you, and I would be willing to work with you and trade some of that information if you are willing to help me.” She said quickly, trying to bargain with him.

 

“Tsk Tsk, Miss Jones. What makes you think you are in any position to negotiate? With your abilities I’m sure you must already know that I am an accomplished Legillimens. I can simply take the information I want, and then I would have no further need of you.” He drawled running the tip of his wand over her jaw as if he were caressing a lover.

 

“You could try. However, you will find, I am accomplished Occlumens.” She said evenly, holding his gaze.

 

“I have other ways of getting information, Miss Jones…” he continued starting to get annoyed with her insolence.

 

“Unforgivables? yes I am aware. However, I’m certain Albus Dumbledore would be _very interested_ to know what happened to his transfiguration apprentice.” Hermione spat.

 

He let her go suddenly as if burned, “What did you say? You are working for Dumbledore?” he said, anger and something else she couldn’t quite identify in his voice

 

“Yes, I am the Transfiguration apprentice under Albus Dumbledore. The only one he’s ever taken on, in fact.” Hermione said crossing her arms over her chest.

 

He looked away from her, as if deep in thought.

 

“It seems as if we’ve reached a stalemate. As I suggested, we could work together to find a mutually agreeable solution. You don’t want to be saddled with a mudblood anymore than I want to be married to a psychopath. Can we agree on that, at least?” Hermione said as she rubbed her temples. Merlin he was already giving her a headache.

 

“A Psychopath?” he laughed. She really was amusing. Maybe would consider her offer.

 

“Yes. You did just have your wand in my face.” Hermione blurted out and then blushed furiously at the double meaning. He noticed.

 

“I can do it again, if the idea excites you so…” he said smirking at her

 

“God, you’re a pervert too. Fantastic.” She snapped sarcastically, and he chuckled at her obvious discomfort.

 

“Don’t blame me, you’re the one whose mind was in the proverbial gutter.” He said in mock offense.

 

“Oh please, I bet you are into all sorts of kink. That innocent façade doesn’t work on me, Riddle.” Hermione shot back

 

“Well, since you are so interested in my wand, maybe you would like to find out exactly what sort of kink I am into?” He purred against her ear, making her blush furiously.

 

“In your dreams, Riddle.” She replied hotly.

 

She pushed back from him then, and started towards the storefront before looking back at him and saying, “We have less than two weeks. If you want to discuss this like adults, you know how to reach me.” She said before she walked out of the shop, leaving him gaping after her like a fish.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad you all are enjoying this!! Thanks again for the reviews!! xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione had a skip in her step on the way back to Hogwarts that afternoon. It wasn’t everyday that one could claim that they one-upped the Dark Lord, but when she walked out of the shop with him staring after her in shock, she was pretty sure she had just won that round.

 

After having a particularly stressful day, in which she told Professor Dumbledore of her impending nuptials with Tom Riddle, she wasn’t particularly thrilled when she entered the Three Broomsticks to find said fiancé sitting on the stairs leading up to her flat.

 

Hermione coughed lightly, clearing her throat to get his attention, as he was deeply immersed in a book he was reading. She cringed when she realized how much like Dolores Umbridge she sounded.

 

His eyes flicked up to meet her gaze, and he smirked at her, snapping the book closed.

 

“Can I help you?” she asked, not entirely polite.

 

“I believe it was your suggestion that we discuss the details of this arrangement, so I took you up on your offer.” He said simply. She hadn’t been expecting company, and she knew her flat probably looked a mess, but there was not much she could do about it now.

 

“Well, come on then.” She huffed as she pushed past him up the stairs, not looking back to see if he was following her.

 

She opened her door, and dropped her bag on the floor as she grabbed her laundry off the arm chair quickly before he walked in, and tossed it in her hamper.

 

“How… _charming_.” He said sarcastically as he stood awkwardly in her living room, looking around her small flat.

 

“It’s not much, but it’s close to Hogwarts, so I am not complaining.” Hermione said defensively. Why did he have to be such a prat?

 

“Please have a seat. I can make tea…or would you prefer coffee?” she asked with a raised eyebrow

 

“Coffee. Black.” He said brusquely.

 

As she turned to head into the kitchen, she couldn’t help scoff at his bossy tone, and mumble _Black like your soul, coming up_!, under her breath.

  
“What was that?” she heard him call from the other room

 

“Nothing!” she bit her lip trying to hold in her laughter.

 

Tom heard her mutter something under her breath, and knew it was a snide comment, but, he decided to let it go, _for now_ , and take a seat. He moved to one of her arm chairs, and noticed a pair of black frilly knickers draped over the arm. His eyebrows rose in shock that someone who outwardly seemed like such prude would wear such racy knickers. This was an interesting development...

 

“I wasn’t sure if you took sugar…” she was saying as she carried two cups of coffee into the sitting room, and she gasped when she looked up and saw Tom sitting in her armchair dangling a pair of her lacy black knickers from his pinky.

 

“Oh God!” she yelped as she set down the coffee and made to grab them from him, but he snatched his arm back away from her before she could get ahold of them.

 

“You know, for someone who blushes so much at the mere mention of sex, these knickers tell quite another story, Jones.” He smirked and she finally managed to grab the knickers from him before tossing them in her bedroom hamper. Thank Merlin they were clean! She must’ve missed them when she had been folding her laundry earlier in her living room. She would be damned if she would ask a house elf to fold her knickers.

 

“My knickers are not a topic for discussion.” She said icily, pushing his coffee towards him with a bit more force than necessary.

 

“Oh, I beg to differ, _Hermione_. We are to be married after all, and what sort of husband doesn’t know what kind of knickers his wife wears?”

 

Hermione choked on her coffee, and he picked up his own cup smirking at her level of distress.

 

“I thought we were going to discuss a way to get us both out of this mess?” she squeaked, in surprise at the change in direction that this conversation seemed to be going in.

 

“On the contrary, Miss Jones, You suggested that we find a mutually agreeable solution, and, in case you missed it, the most obvious one would be to simply get married.” He said calmly, as if he’d just told her the weather.

 

“Yes, but…how is that agreeable? I fail to see that part of your plan.” Hermione said testily as she set down her cup and crossed her arms over her chest angrily.

 

“Well, if we were to marry, than neither one of us has concern ourselves with going to Azkaban. That is certainly agreeable from where I am sitting. Obviously, I would have no interest in having you meddling in my affairs, so I don’t see why things couldn’t continue the way they are now, hence, agreeable.” He said smoothly.

 

“You’re forgetting the most important part; if we marry, we have to produce a child within a year. I hardly see that as ‘ _things continuing the way they are now_.’” She huffed indignantly.

 

“You know, for someone who is supposed to be intelligent, you’re not very bright, are you?” he said smirking at her again, purposely riling her temper once more

 

“Excuse me?” she shrieked. How dare he insult her in her own flat!

 

“The law states that a married couple must produce a child within one year. Correct?” he said in a condescending tone that was pissing Hermione off even more.

 

“Yes.” She snapped through gritted teeth.

 

“And how long do you think this farce of a law will be in effect? I am quite sure that it will be over-turned before the year is up. If that is the case, we simply refrain from producing any offspring. After a year, per the terms of the law, the marriage will be dissolved. If the law has been overturned, one could only assume that we would not be reassigned a new spouse. Problem solved.” He said triumphantly as he sat back and sipped his coffee.

 

As his rationale sunk in, it made sense. All they had to do, essentially, was get married and then wait it out.

 

“I believe you still have something I want. If I agree to this arrangement, I expect to be paid with information.”

 

Of course he wasn’t going to make this easy.

 

“Well as you so eloquently stated, if you don’t agree you’ll be heading to Azkaban, so why should I tell you anything?” she asked in annoyance

 

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t comply with the law, I said that I would agree with the _arrangement_. There is a distinct difference.” He said smirking evilly at her over his coffee cup.

 

“What do you mean?” she asked, not sure she wanted to hear his answer.

 

“Well, if you don’t give me the information that I require, I will expect you to act as a proper wife, _in every sense_. I do not need to explain what that entails, now do I, _Hermione_?”

 

Hermione paled at his insinuation, and swallowed thickly.

 

“What sort of information?” she asked hesitantly.

 

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about Hermione. How did you know about the horcruxes?” He asked her in a deceptively calm voice.

 

“It’s complicated.” She answered biting her lip

 

“Well, we’ve already established that you’re not a seer, and I know that no one aside from myself knew about them, so please enlighten me as to how it is that you do.”

 

Hermione saw now way around it. She had to tell him that she was from the future.

 

“I _may_ have come here from much farther than America.” She said cryptically, avoiding his gaze.

 

“Hermione, don’t make me hurt you.” He said getting irritated. He had a feeling she knew exactly what he was capable of.

 

“Fine. I’m from the year 1998. There was an accident….anyway, that’s not important. The point is, I know who you are, and what you’ve done, _Lord Voldemort_.” She was pissed off at herself for not being selfless like Harry and allowing herself to be killed to preserve the time line. Truthfully though, she didn’t have a death wish.

 

He smirked at her reference to his title. His plans must’ve worked well if she had heard of him as far as 1998…

 

“I see my reputation precedes me.” He said smoothly, enjoying the look of loathing that passed across her face.

 

“If by reputation, you mean _creepy snake faced loon_ , then that is a resounding _yes_.” She said acidly.

 

He just looked at her in confusion. What the hell was she on about?

 

“Snake faced? What is that supposed to mean?” he asked raising an eyebrow

 

“It’s the way you look in the future. Bald, spindly, nose-less, quite similar to a snake actually.” Hermione said taking no small amount of glee in his shocked expression.

 

“How the hell does that happen?” he asked with a tinge of concern in his voice.

 

_Oh, not what you planned Voldemort? How unfortunate…_

 

“I don’t rightly know, though it may have something to do with creating _seven bloody horcruxes_ , and then having your body destroyed after a rebounded curse when you attempt to murder someone’s _baby_. Eventually, one of your rat-faced servants brings you back to a pitiful existence by some dark ritual, and I suppose that was the best he could do.” Hermione said trying to bite back a smirk at the look of outrage on Tom’s face.

 

“You’re _lying_.” He accused.

 

“Honestly, I couldn’t make this up if I tried.” She said with complete sincerity.

 

He looked away from her, still trying to absorb what she had told him.

 

“If it makes you feel any better, you haven’t passed the point of no return yet…maybe make a few less horcruxes and try not to go around cursing small children.” She offered helpfully, to which he only glared.

 

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. It had been a long day, and she was already getting a headache.

 

"I need a real drink if we are going to continue this conversation. Are you coming?" She said suddenly standing and walking towards her door.

 

“What are you doing?” He asked in annoyance.

 

“We’re going downstairs to have a proper drink. Come along, there’s no way I’m leaving you alone up here with my knickers.”

 

She saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a smirk, and he stood following her down the stairs despite himself. She found an open booth in the back near the stairs to her flat, and slid into it rubbing a hand tiredly over her eyes.

 

“What’ll you have, dears” Madame Hilda stopped by the booth, smiling at Hermione and looking appraisingly at Tom.

 

“I’ll have a fire whiskey and….” Tom began, looking towards Hermione, not sure what she wanted to drink.

 

“I’ll take a glass of red wine, please.” Hermione chimed in.

 

Once Madame Hilda walked away, Tom studied her as if she were a very interesting puzzle as he leaned his chin on his hand.

 

“What? Why are you staring at me?” She asked self-consciously.

 

“Merlin, you really are uptight, aren’t you.” Tom said as if he had finally solved the puzzle.

 

“I am not! Whatever gave you that impression?” Hermione said defensively

 

“Well, you’re drinking red wine for starters.” He offered, as if that explained everything.

 

“And what is wrong with drinking red wine, might I ask?” she sniffed.

 

Madame Hilda chose that moment to return with Hermione’s glass of wine and his fire whiskey, setting both glasses down on the table before hurrying off once again.

 

“Nothing, per se, but you can tell a lot about a woman’s personality from what she chooses to drink.” Tom said taking a sip of his fire whiskey.

 

“Is that so? Are you an expert on women now?” Hermione bit back a snort, taking a sip of her wine and raising an eyebrow at him.

 

“Over there…” Tom nodded towards a woman seated at a nearby table. She was dressed a little more formally than most, and Hermione assumed that she was most likely a pureblood witch by the way she carried herself.

 

“She’s drinking a Martini. She wants people to notice that she can hold her liquor, and remain a lady at all times. A high society woman wouldn’t be caught dead drinking a glass of wine.” Tom said smoothly.

 

Hermione glanced down at the glass of wine in her hand and felt like he had somehow just insulted her without actually doing it.

 

“Okay, and what about that one?” Hermione asked, nodding to another woman who was sitting a few tables away. This woman was dressed far more casually, and was drinking what appeared to be a vodka Tonic.

 

“Ah, that’s an easy one. Vodka tonic: She’s a no nonsense kind of woman. She’s clever, but practical, and doesn’t care too much about appearances.”

 

Hermione rather thought that sounded a bit like her…maybe she should try a vodka tonic next time?

 

“And what about me?” She asked almost dreading what he would say.

 

"Red wine: There is definitely an appreciation of intellectual and creative pursuits however there is always an undercurrent of dissatisfaction with oneself. Women who drink red wine are deeply sensual, although they like to pretend they are above such things. Hence, uptight."

 

Hermione choked on her wine, and saw Tom smirk before taking another sip of fire whiskey.

 

"Let's see if it works on men, too, shall we? Fire Whiskey. Someone who drinks fire whiskey appears always in control, although they are usually temperamental, egotistical sods." Hermione smirked and he laughed at her in response.

 

Tom knocked back the rest of his fire whiskey, and ordered another. It didn't escape his notice that Hermione told Madame Hilda to leave the bottle of wine.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your positive feedback! so happy you are enjoying this! Beware of Smut in this chapter!

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The next morning, Hermione nuzzled deeper into the warm delicious smelling pillow that was wrapped around her. She inhaled deeply, and sighed contentedly. Her leg was slung over it, and the pillows arms were wrapped around her waist.

_Wait…pillows don't have arms…_

Hermione cracked open an eye, and tilted her head up to see the sleeping face of Tom Riddle. He was _asleep_ in her bed. To make matters worse, her leg was slung shamelessly over his hip, and his arms were wrapped around her like a grindylow. She had absolutely no recollection of how they had ended up in bed together, but she supposed it had quite a bit to do with the amount of alcohol they had consumed the night before. To her horror, she could feel something hard poking her inner thigh. She silently, lifted the sheets a tiny bit and peeked down; she was thoroughly relieved to see she did at least have her knickers on. Her top, however, had somehow gone missing. She didn't dare look to see if he was naked, but she rather thought he was if the erection currently poking her thigh was anything to go by.

As he began to stir, she had a mini panic attack. She tried to slink out of his grip without waking him up, and her heart was hammering in her chest. She finally managed to shift herself enough that she could scoot out of the bed, and she snatched a small throw pillow from one of the arm chairs before attempting to tip toe to the loo.

"Where do you think you're going?" came a deep voice that was still husky from sleep.

She froze, and turned slowly towards him, still clutching the pillow to her chest like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Um…to the loo?" it came out more like a question, and she cursed herself for sounding like an idiot.

He smirked at her, and leaned back casually in her bed, folding his arms behind his head as if he owned the place.

"I should think that after last night, there would be no need to be shy…" he said, enjoying the flush that crept across her body under his heated gaze.

"And what _exactly_ happened last night?" she asked sheepishly. She was pretty sure they did not have sex at least, since she had her knickers on, and she wasn't sore. Thank merlin for small miracles.

"You don't remember, _Hermione_?" he said in mock offense, enjoying her embarrassment far too much.

"Erm..not entirely." She muttered, biting her lower lip.

_He did look rather sexy in her bed when he gazed at her like that…_ then she mentally slapped herself with the reminder that this was _Voldemort._

"Well, you had a bit too much wine last night, and I helped you back up to your flat, being the gentleman that I am, but before I could leave, you pounced on me." He smirked, watching the look of shock cross her face.

"I'm quite sure I didn't _pounce_." She huffed.

"Oh, yes you did. You pounced on me like a kneazle in heat. I think I still have scratch marks…" he was saying before she caught sight of her appearance in the mirror on her wall, and noticed the love bites on her neck.

She looked at him accusingly, pointing to the marks, "Oh and I suppose you were just an innocent bystander in all of this?"

He chuckled, "Of course not. I am not above passing up an opportunity that presents itself so _willingly_." He said seductively.

Now she was beginning to understand how the pouncing might have happened… _Merlin, he needed to put on a shirt._

She cleared her throat, and mustered up as much dignity as she could, considering she was standing in front of him dressed only in a rather skimpy pair of knickers and holding a throw pillow to her chest, "I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression. I can assure you, it won't happen again. Now, I am going to go get dressed, and I think maybe you should…go." She said, not able to meet his eyes.

She quickly grabbed her discarded clothes from the floor, and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

He chuckled to himself saying, "we'll see about that" then he stood from her bed, pulling on his clothes and disapparating with a crack.

Thankfully, when Hermione exited the loo a short while later, he was already gone. She stared at herself in the mirror, tracing the love bites he had left behind with her finger. _Well, this certainly complicated things._

 

~~{0}~~

 

Later that afternoon, she received a letter from Tom requesting that they meet at the Ministry at noon the following day to complete the binding ceremony. After the events of the previous evening, she was surprised to find that she was a little disappointed at how formal and detached his letter had been, however she shook it off quickly, and sent him a reply with the response. By noon the following day, she would no longer be Miss Hermione Jones (Granger), but Mrs. Hermione Riddle. Her stomach did a backflip at the thought. He had said that things could remain as they are, meaning that she could continue to live in her own flat and work as she pleased, and he could do…whatever aspiring dark lords do. Honestly, she didn't really want to know.

Dumbledore, of course, seemed disappointed about the whole affair, and pointedly told her that she shouldn't trust Tom, or take him at his word. He seemed certain that Tom would use this forced marriage to somehow suit his needs. Hermione secretly agreed, but she insisted that the law would be over turned soon and their marriage would ultimately be dissolved. She had no plans on telling anyone that she had once been Mrs. Hermione Riddle. _Ever_.

She had never before put much thought into her wedding day, since she was far too practical to concern herself with such things until she had a man in her life that she would even consider making that kind of commitment to. But, she supposed with little choice, and less than twenty four hours to spare, she should at least buy a dress. She had no illusions about the sort of marriage they would have, for however short they may be married. There would only be four of them at the ceremony; herself, Tom, Professor Dumbledore, and a witness of Tom's choosing. She knew Tom would not be pleased to see Professor Dumbledore at the ceremony, but Hermione couldn't think of anyone else that she would rather have there to support her. Also, she reasoned, it would serve as a warning to Tom that he would be watching. With that thought, she apparated to Madame Malkin's shop to find something tasteful, yet not too formal.

After an hour of having white frilly gowns thrust at her, Hermione laid eyes on a simple white gown that had thin straps that met a sweetheart neckline with white roses that were arranged diagonally from one hip along the bodice to one shoulder. It was simple, elegant, and not too formal for a wedding at the ministry. Hermione purchased the dress, with a matching set of heels, and apparated back to her flat. With that out of the way, she picked up the stack of transfiguration essays that needed grading, and plunked herself down in her armchair.

 

~~{0}~~

 

The following morning, Hermione was a ball of nerves. She had arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, and Professor Dumbledore told her that she should take the day off. He even gave her a half smile and said, "Even if the groom leaves something to be desired, it is your wedding day after all, Hermione." She nodded, and decided she would use the time to try and relax as much as possible before she had to be at the ministry. She idly wondered if Tom would even bother getting dressed up, or if he would just floo in on his lunchbreak and Floo back to work after it was finished. The thought of him just leaving her on their wedding day like that left her feeling once again, strangely disappointed. _Get a grip, Hermione, this is not a real marriage anyway; its simply two people following the law so that they aren't shipped off to Azkaban, and nothing more._

At ten minutes to twelve, Hermione was dressed, and had even tamed her hair and put on a bit of light makeup. She took a deep breath, and headed downstairs to the pub so that she could floo to the Ministry. She felt the stares from curious passers-by as she walked through the crowded halls to the Department of Magical Families. Clearly, they could deduce that she was there to be married, and was most likely a muggleborn, since that is who this ridiculous law was targeting. She wanted to shout at them to mind their own business, but she kept her head held high, and tried to ignore the stares as she approached the department's door. Inside, she was relieved to see Professor Dumbledore was already there. He smiled at her warmly, and when she turned her eyes to the front of the room, her breath caught in her throat; Tom was there, wearing elegant black dress robes, standing by the Magistrate with a blond wizard at his side who she could only assume was a Malfoy, judging by the platinum hair.

"Jones" He greeted her, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Riddle" she replied biting her cheek to keep from smirking back at him.

Just then, the magistrate stepped forward, "Are both witnesses present?" he asked, and both the blond wizard and Professor Dumbledore stepped forward to indicate their presence.

"Very well. Tom, Hermione, please face each other; yes that's good. We are gathered here today to witness the binding of Hermione Jean Jones to Tom Marvolo Riddle. From this day forward you will be bound to one another in body and in soul." The magistrate said, reaching for Tom and Hermione's hands to join them together.

"Tom, please repeat after me; I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, do so promise to love, honor, and protect you, Hermione, until my last dying breath."

Tom swallowed thickly, and he kept his eyes trained on the witch in front of him, "I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, do so promise to love, honor, and protect you, Hermione, until my last breath."

It didn't escape Hermione's notice that he stumbled over the word 'love'.

They both watched as a silvery ribbon floated from the magistrate's wand, and wove itself around Tom and Hermione's joined hands before it glowed brightly and became absorbed into their flesh.

"Now, Hermione, repeat after me; I, Hermione Jean Jones, do so promise to love, honor, and protect you, Tom, until my last dying breath."

Hermione felt her heart pounding as she realized the implications of the vow she was about to make; Once she said these words, she would forever be powerless to help defeat Voldemort. There was no other option left to her though, so she gathered her courage and said the words.

"I, Hermione Jean Jones, do so promise to love, honor, and protect you, Tom, until my last dying breath."

As before, the same silvery ribbon floated from the magistrate's wand and wove around their joined hands before disappearing into their joined hands.

"By the power vested in me, appointed by the Ministry of Magic, I pronounce you Wizard and Wife. Mr. Riddle, you may now kiss your bride."

Tom's eyes flicked to Dumbledore for the briefest of moments before a small smirk curled in the corner of his mouth and he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Hermione's lips. Even the small bit of contact sent an unexpected jolt of desire down her spine.

The minister cleared his throat and caught their attention once they stepped apart, "Oh, and before I forget to mention it, it is my duty to inform you that by the terms of Proclamation 1682, the ceremonial binding will only be considered complete once consummation has occurred. Please accept our deepest congratulations and best wishes on your life together. Have a wonderful day." The magistrate said dismissively.

Hermione's jaw dropped when the magistrate offered that bit of information _after the fact_. So much for 'continuing as if nothing changed' Hermione thought as a bubble of panic rose in her chest. Judging by the look on Tom's face, this information was clearly not a surprise, and his smile was positively _feral_.

"Come along, Hermione, we have much to _do_." Tom said seductively, while glaring at Professor Dumbledore, as if daring him to stop him from leaving with his wife.

Hermione looked at Professor Dumbledore helplessly, but he turned his gaze away from her sadly, and left the department without a word. _What could he say, really?_ She turned her gaze back to Tom and narrowed her eyes at him. She wasn't about to make a scene in the middle of the Ministry, but once they were in private, she was going to tell him exactly what she thought. What a prat!

Tom grasped her arm and pulled her through the crowded halls of the ministry to the floo network. He pushed her into the grate, and threw the floo powder in saying, "Riddle Mansion" before she was engulfed with green flames. He followed along behind her, making her jump as the fire place roared to life once more after she had stepped into an elegant sitting room.

"Welcome Home, Hermione." He said silkily as he dropped a kiss on her neck from behind.

"Wait a minute, what do you mean, ' _home_ '? You said things would continue as they were!" She turned on him sharply, placing her hands on her hips.

"Yes, I did, but that was _before_." He answered, still grinning in amusement at her distress.

"Before what!?" she asked incredulously

"Before I knew that you liked to wear black racy knickers under those unflattering wool skirts." Tom replied trailing his hands over the curve of her hips.

Hermione let out an undignified snort, "Excuse me? I thought we agreed that the other night was a mistake, and that it wasn't going to happen again? And besides, what I choose to wear for knickers are _none_ of your concern." Hermione retorted hotly.

"I don't seem to recall agreeing to anything of the sort. And I have every intention of seeing those knickers again, although I can't say you'll be wearing them for very long." He said as he pulled her against his chest and began to leave a trail of kisses along her neck.

At the moment, Hermione was having difficulty remembering just what she was supposed to be upset about when his tongue was doing things like that… _oh right. Marriage_.

"So I suppose now you expect me to just give up my job and stay here as your slave now, is that it?" she accused, trying not to let his kisses distract her.

"That is tempting…but, no. You will continue working for your precious Dumbledore. However, a home cooked meal once in a while would not go amiss." He said as he continued to kiss up her jaw.

"And will I be expected to…share your bed? Aside from fulfilling the terms of our marriage, I mean…" she whispered shakily. Tom's lips on her throat were making it awfully hard to focus.

"I will take you as I please" Tom said huskily as he finally captured her lips in a searing kiss. She felt warmth flare in her chest at his words, and surprising rush of desire.

He picked her up suddenly, with his hands under her knees as he clutched her to his chest. She squeaked in surprise as she felt her feet leave the floor, and she wrapped her arms around his neck for support. He never broke the kiss as he carried her to the bedroom. Once inside, he kicked the door closed with his foot, and he set her gently on the large king sized bed. There was a fire already blazing in the hearth, and she couldn't help but feel how romantic the whole thing seemed, though she was sure that he had not done that intentionally. No, she certainly couldn't see love shining in his eyes, the look he was giving her was fueled by lust.

He shrugged off his outer robe and gazed at her as he began to unbutton his shirt. Hermione seemed frozen in shock, and sat staring up at him with wide eyes. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt like she was stuck in some bad dream. She was supposed to be with Harry and Ron destroying his horcruxes, defeating him; yet here she was, married to him instead. She had already lost most of her childhood innocence because of him, and now she was about to lose the last of it in his bed.

She felt the mattress dip beside her, and then his lips once again kissing her neck, brushing her hair over her shoulder. She closed her eyes, not daring to move as she heard the zipper of her dress being slowly lowered at her back. She felt him push the straps down over her shoulders, as her dress pooled at her waist. Although they had apparently already been intimate to a certain degree, she didn't have much recollection of it due to the alcohol they had consumed, but now, in the harsh light of day with her _husband_ kissing her neck, her courage fled her.

"Hermione, look at me" he whispered in her ear as he continued to kiss and caress her neck and collar bone.

She raised her eyes to his. He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, and she inhaled sharply.

"This doesn't have to be unpleasant for you, if you don't wish it to be." He breathed and then continued to trail kisses down her neck. She was at war with herself as his lips brushed over her skin; she was afraid that if she fully gave herself to him, she would be lost forever. This man, _her husband_ , who was currently running his hands over the bare skin of her back and kissing her shoulders, would do unforgivable things, _had already done_ unforgiveable things. If she had any hope of surviving this, she would have to play his game. If she couldn't destroy him, she could do the next best thing; she would manipulate him without him even knowing she had done it. She would have to be subtle; it was time to out-Slytherin a Slytherin.

She turned suddenly in his arms then, and crushed her lips to his, threading her fingers into his hair. He moaned into her mouth as he felt her finally responding to him. She felt herself being pushed back into the soft pillows of the bed, and he pulled her wedding dress over her hips and draped it over the back of a nearby chair. He stood now, looking down at her as she was clad only in her knickers, to his delight, they were the black lacy ones he had been fantasizing about since he spotted them in her flat.

"It seems as if you planned this." He smirked down at her

The corner of her lips curved up into a smirk, "Maybe I did…" she answered biting her bottom lip and leaning back on her elbows. Truthfully, they were the only clean non-granny panties she had left.

He held her gaze as he unfastened his pants and let them fall to the floor, smirking as he watched her take in his fully nude form. He crawled onto the bed towards her like a predator, his gaze still locked with hers, and he hooked his thumbs over the edge of her knickers and pulled them off tossing them casually to the floor. He captured her lips again in a searing kiss as his hand slid along the underside of her thigh wrapping it around his waist. She could feel him now against her as he rocked his hips sending shocks of pleasure through her body. His other hand and mouth found her breasts and she moaned sharply when she felt his teeth graze her nipple. He entered her then with a groan, and Hermione couldn't stifle her gasp from the sting of being filled so completely for the first time. He remained still for a few moments allowing her to adjust to him before he slowly began to move inside of her. He bit back a groan as he picked up his pace, moving his hand down between them to stroke her as he pumped into her. Her body was trembling now, as she felt something building within her like a powerful storm, as she writhed against him trying to satiate this need; this delicious ache within her as he thrust into her relentlessly. He captured her lips again and trailed kisses over her jaw before he growled into her ear, " _Mine_ "

The possessive tone he used coupled with the wicked things he was doing to her body sent her over the edge. She dug her nails into his back as she arched her back off the bed, feeling waves of pleasure pulsing through her. He began to pick up his pace then, before long, he found his release inside of her with a groan.

He was breathing heavily as she rolled off of her onto his back beside her on the bed. She chanced a look at him from the corner of her eyes. He had one arm slung over his face.

"Why are you staring at me?" He said without bothering to move his arm.

"How did you know I was looking?" She asked, an amused smirk forming at the corner of her lips.

"Because I just know. What is going through that bushy head of yours." He asked

Hermione scowled. Had he really just commented on her riotous hair after he shagged her so thoroughly?

"Is it a crime to look at my husband? Merlin, this is so strange. Married… _I'm married_." Hermione said as she tried to process it.

"Yes, now, _officially_ , we are married." He confirmed, smirking at her.

"This is so not how I imagined my life going." She said more to herself than to him, when she felt him shift beside her.

"Oh? And how was it that you imagined your life going?" he asked curiously, looking down at her from his side as he propped himself up on his elbow.

"Well for starters, I would never have chosen to be married this young. I had imagined that I would finish school, start a career, and then marry when it felt right; when I was in love, and ready for that sort of thing." She said honestly.

He scoffed dismissively, "Love is an illusion, nothing more."

Hermione huffed and turned herself to face him, "It is not! How would you even know, anyway? It's not as if you've ever been in love before." She snapped.

"True, I haven't, but that only reinforces it. What about you? You don't strike me as the type who's ever _made time_ for that sort of thing?" He asked mockingly.

Hermione was about to shout back at him that _of course she has_ , but she stopped herself. The truth was, she wasn't sure if she had.

"I thought I was, once." She answered honestly, looking down at the sheets, remembering another life, in another time.

"Well, you are married to me now, so I expect your fidelity regardless of what you think of me." He said with an air of finality that was not lost on her.

Hermione looked down at her ring finger and caught sight of the silver wedding band that was glinting in the firelight. They had appeared after their marriage was consummated.

"If you expect my fidelity, then as your wife, I shall expect yours." She said defiantly, meeting his eyes.

He smirked at her then, "Then you shall have it."

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your awesome reviews! I am so happy you guys like this! Be warned there is smut in this chapter!

**~~{0}~~**

Hermione awoke with a start, feeling disoriented as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings. After a few moments, the events of the previous day came back to her, and she remembered she was currently in bed with Tom Riddle, _Voldemort_ , in his home. _Their home_. She groaned when she realized it was a Saturday. She would have welcomed the distraction that Hogwarts would have provided, and she wasn't especially looking forward to spending any more time than necessary in his presence, married or not. She turned her head to look at him. He was still asleep beside her, looking as innocent as an angel, only Hermione knew that this angel would gladly take her soul if she let him have it. She turned away from him and rose silently from the bed, throwing on a silk bathrobe that was laid over the chair that had obviously been meant for her, and made her way to the loo.

When she returned to the bedroom, he was awake, and leaning back on his elbows. The sheet had fallen to his waist, and she licked her lips unconsciously as she admired his physique.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked

She nodded nervously, not quite knowing what to say.

"I need to get my things…" she began to say before he cut her off.

"I have arranged to have all of your belongings brought here from your flat. This is your home now, Hermione."

"I suppose I don't get to have a say in any of this." She said annoyance. So much for finding a way to avoid him for the day.

He didn't acknowledge her comment, but then just looked at her evenly and said, "I don't keep house elves, so if there is something you want, you'll need to get it yourself."

She idly wondered if he didn't keep them because he didn't agree with it, or if it was because he was too protective of his privacy. Probably the latter.

"I'll go find the kitchen then." She said wanting to put some space between them. She was having trouble looking him in the eye after having slept with him the night before, and she felt guilty. She was obligated by law to consummate their marriage, however, she had been under no such obligation to enjoy it, and she did; Very much so. She felt ashamed that she knew all of this man's sins, and yet she still enjoyed his touch. It made her feel dirty in a way.

She made her way downstairs and found the kitchen. It was large and open, although it did not escape her notice that there was a distinct lack of food. There were a few things of course like coffee and tea, but it looked as if he rarely ate here. She put a kettle on for tea, and walked through the living room to look out of the window. The mansion sat on the edge of a large cemetery. _How fitting_ , she thought. Despite being a grand house, it had very obviously fallen into disrepair over the years. She was able to put two and two together and figure out that this was the house that belonged to his father and grandparents, who he had killed only a few years before. She shuddered at the thought, but knowing who he was, it hadn't surprised her. It was no wonder that without the assistance of a caretaker that the house and grounds would begin to look unkempt. Inside though, he kept the house impeccably neat. She heard the whistle of the kettle then, and found two tea cups and poured them both some tea. A few moments later, he walked into the kitchen wearing only a pair of black dress pants, and he stood across from her, lifting his teacup to his lips.

She held her cup puerched between her fingers, and couldn't stop her eyes from roaming over his bare chest.

"What?" he asked grabbing the copy of the daily prophet from the counter and glancing up at her when he noticed she was staring.

"Could you…maybe put on a shirt?" she asked standing stiffly.

The corners of his lips curved up into a smirk, "Why, does my being without a shirt bother you, Hermione?"

She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes briefly as she sighed in frustration, "It's distracting." She admitted.

"Oh? And what is it about me not wearing a shirt that you find so distracting?" he baited

She glared at him, wanting to smack the smirk right off his face. Rather than answer him, she set her teacup casually on the counter, and untied her silk bathrobe , letting it fall to the floor.

"What are you doing?" his eyes widened and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Anything interesting in the paper this morning?" She asked completely ignoring his question, and kept a straight face as if she wasn't standing in his kitchen completely nude.

"Hermione, you are standing in front of me naked, I couldn't care less about what is in the paper." He chuckled taking a step towards her.

"Oh? Why not? It wouldn't be _distracting,_ would it?" she said putting her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow at him.

She squeaked in surprise when he moved toward her as quick as a snake and lifted her onto the counter in front of him as if she weighed nothing at all. The hands that had been grasping her hips moved lower to push her legs apart so he could stand between them. He captured her mouth in a demanding kiss, and his hands moved slowly, almost torturously so, back to her hips and then up to her breasts. He pulled back slightly to tease her lips with his tongue as he ground himself against her. She moaned and ran her fingers down his chest feeling the taut muscles beneath her hands before sliding them up his bare back. Her fingers wove into his dark hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him closer as her legs wrapped around his waist. She idly heard the sound of his belt buckle coming undone, but she was past caring. All that existed was his mouth moving against hers. She cried out when she felt him enter her roughly, and he captured her lips once again with his as he thrust into her while she sat perched on the edge of the kitchen counter. He groaned when she raked her nails over his back; she had closed her eyes and let her head fall back totally consumed with the pleasure he was giving her. He gazed at her intensely as he fucked her, taking delight in the way that she moaned every time he thrust into her. He moved his hand down and began to stroke her with his thumb and her eyes snapped open and met his intense gaze with one of her own, as if she was daring him to make her come. It didn't take long before he felt her buck against him and cry out biting down hard on her lip as she came apart. He followed shortly after growling into her ear.

He rested his forehead against hers as they both tried to catch their breath when she couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in her chest.

"See? I was right. Distracting." She said, the corners of her lips curved up into a smile.

"You've made your point." He said chuckling and she released her legs from his waist and hopped back down from the counter picking up her bathrobe from the floor where it had fallen, and wrapped it around herself.

"Well, if we are to live here, we'll need food." She said crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm not stopping you." Tom said absently, already back to perusing the Daily Prophet and sipping is now cold tea.

Hermione grimaced. Of course he would make her do it.

"Fine. I'm going to the market today then." She said

"I recommend you put some clothes on first." He teased, the corner of his lips curving into a smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes and headed back upstairs to their bedroom. She was happy to see several boxes there now that contained all of her belongings. She pulled out her wand and after only a few minutes, all of her clothes were hanging in the armoire, books on the bookshelf, and her personal things in the bathroom. She didn't have any photos, or mementos, since she had only been there for a relatively short time. After taking a quick shower, she got dressed for the day, and used the floo to go to Diagon Alley. Usually, the house elves took care of picking out all the food items and preparing it, but since she and Tom didn't own any, the task fell to her. She was happy to do it though, since she was thoroughly against the enslavement of house elves. No matter Tom's reason, she was pleased he didn't own any.

~~{0}~~

A few hours later, Hermione returned to their home. Tom was nowhere to be seen, so she decided she should start attempting to make dinner. She was anxious, because of all of the things Hermione was good at, cooking wasn't one of them. The thing about cooking, was that to truly master it, one had to instinctually know what to do; how much seasoning to add, or how to get creative with a recipe. Following instructions she could do, creativity was a whole other kettle of fish. She pulled out the roast she had bought and set it on the counter, glaring at it. She remembered from when she was a child that her mother would make delicious Sunday dinners that usually involved some sort of roast with potatoes and vegetables, so she thought she would give it a try. Most people learn to cook in their late teen years, but since she had been at Hogwarts from the tender age of eleven, she never got around to learning; fighting a war seemed much more important at the time. She found a roasting pan and dropped the roast into it, along with some diced carrots and potatoes. She frowned, looking at it, knowing it needed something more, but having no idea what that something more should be. Salt, perhaps? Her father seemed to put it on everything he ate, so surely, that would be a safe choice. She added some pepper too, since that always seemed to go with salt; they do usually come in a pack together afterall. She looked at the stove, and there encountered her next obstacle. At what temperature does one cook a roast on? She had no idea, but decided the hotter the better. She turned on the broiler to high, and waited until the oven beeped indicating that it had reached temperature, and then placed the roasting pan inside. She washed her hands, and then wiped them on a small hand towel, and headed into the living room to read while she waited. That was the other thing; she had no idea how long it would take for the meat to cook. If she remembered correctly, it seemed as if her mother was cooking for quite some time before dinner was ready, so she settled in an armchair with a book. It was more than an hour later, that she noticed the smoke.

Hermione sprang into action, running into the kitchen to see smoke billowing from the edges of the closed over door. She quickly turned off the oven, and wrenched open the door. The smoke that billowed out made her cough, and she raced to the other side of the kitchen to open a window, gulping in the fresh air from outside. She ducked her head back in, and squeaked when she saw that the roast was on fire. She pulled her wand and shouted " _Aguamenti_!" hearing the hiss as the flames were extinguished. She grabbed a pair of oven mits and was reaching in to pull out the roasting pan when she heard Tom's voice behind her.

"What the hell is this?" he snapped in annoyance, which was exactly the wrong thing to say.

Hermione pulled the roasting pan from the oven, holding the charred remains of the roast and blackened vegetables and turned to face him with a glare, "Your dinner." She snapped angrily as she slammed the roasting pan down onto the stove.

He blinked and looked at the blackened husk that was no longer identifiable, and then back up at her.

"You shouldn't have." He said sarcastically, and then he flicked his wand around in a circle over his head to remove the lingering smoke.

Hermione pursed her lips, wanting to tell him he was being an ungrateful prick, but she held her tongue. The truth was, despite her epic fail in the kitchen, she was still hungry.

He sighed, looking at her once more, "Take away?" he asked with a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

She bit back a smile and nodded, then took out her wand and vanished the evidence of her botched attempt at dinner.

"I suppose home cooked meals are out of the question, then." Tom laughed at her as she crossed her arms.

"At least I tried. Judging by the fact that there was literally no food in this house before I arrived, I can only assume your culinary skills are as questionable as mine." She quipped.

"Then you would assume wrong. I am quite skilled at cooking, I simply choose not to." He said smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh, really? And how is it that you are such an expert then?" Hermione challenged

Tom looked away from her and then down at his hands uncomfortably for a moment, "I had to learn pretty quickly when I was young. If you didn't learn to cook, you didn't eat at the orphanage. They couldn't afford hired help, so we had to learn to do most things for ourselves."

Hermione didn't really know what to say to that; she had known that he had grown up in an orphanage, but she honestly had no idea what that must've been like, and she assumed it would not be something that he would ever voluntarily discuss with her.

Wanting to move away from the uncomfortable topic, she gave a half smile and then promptly changed the subject, "So what sort of take away?" Beyond the information she had known about Lord Voldemort, she knew almost nothing about the man who was standing before her now. What sort of food did he like? What was his favorite color? Was he allergic to peanuts? She had no idea.

"There is a curry place nearby that is good." He said shrugging his shoulders

So he liked Indian food then.

"That will be fine." She said, as he nodded and stepped over to the floo. No matter how many times she saw wizards do it, she always thought it looked so strange when they plunged only their heads through while the rest of them just sort of kneeled awkwardly in front of the fireplace. She sat on the sofa behind him, admiring his rear end while he was busy ordering their food. A few moments later, he leaned back from the fireplace holding two take away boxes.

She blushed when he turned to look at her, and a smirk curled at the edges of his lips when he realized what she had been doing.

"Admiring the view?" he teased as he handed her a box and took a seat on the floor, leaning back against the sofa.

Hermione scoffed, "Hardly." As she moved from the sofa to sit beside him on the floor.

"We have a table, you know." She said as she opened the box and took a bite of the food. It really was very good.

"Well, had you not burnt our dinner, we could have been sitting there eating at it now."

She scowled at him, "See if I ever attempt to cook for you again." She huffed and took another bite of her food.

"Please don't" he said chuckling and she smacked him on the arm, laughing.

She froze, and the smile fell from her face when the realization hit her that she had just been laughing and acting playful towards Lord Voldemort; it was hard for her to reconcile the man sitting next to her on the floor with the monster she had been fighting for half her life. He still seemed so human. She truly did want to know more about him, maybe it would shed some light on how things went so wrong.

He noticed her change in behavior and his eyes shifted back to his food. An awkward silence fell between then for a while until she spoke again.

"Do you like sweets?" she asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

He furrowed his brow at the random line of questioning, and answered "Not particularly, although I do enjoy dark chocolate from time to time."

She nodded, filing away the small bit of useless information.

"What about you?" he asked her suddenly.

Hermione was surprised that he asked, because he didn't seem to show any interest previously in wanting to actually get to know her, other than in what ways she might be useful to him. Whether or not she liked sweets was certainly not useful information.

"Yes, very much. My parents were dentists you see, and they never allowed me to have sweets as a child. They said it would rot my teeth." She explained, smiling as she thought about her parents.

"What was it like?" he asked quietly

She wasn't sure she heard him correctly, "What was what like? Not being able to eat sweets as child?" she asked confused.

"Having parents." He clarified.

Hermione felt a stab in her chest at the way he said it.

"It's hard to explain really – it's wonderful at times and infuriating at other times, but in the end, you love them even when they drive you crazy, because you know that they are only doing it because they are looking out for you." She tried to explain.

"What were they like, your parents?" he asked.

She was still shocked by the turn the conversation had taken, and as innocently as he'd asked the question, part of brain sent alarm bells ringing that he was only trying to get information from her that he could use against her in the future. If he knew what hurt her, he could exploit it.

"There's nothing much to tell really, I haven't seen much of them since I started school. Muggles don't exactly have a place in the magical world." She hedged.

He nodded, accepting her answer and not continuing the line of questioning.

"What is a food you hate most?" Hermione asked not wanting to lose the opportunity to find out more about him while he was in a talkative mood.

"Beans. I hate them. I'd be happy to never have to eat another bean again." He said taking another bite of his curry.

Hermione chuckled. She wasn't a fan of beans herself, but she couldn't say she hated them.

"Do you have any food allergies?" she asked innocently, but he looked at her and narrowed his eyes.

"Why? Are you going to try and off me with a peanut?" he snorted.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, "No, but wouldn't that be something. The fearsome Lord Voldemort bested by a peanut."

He smirked, "No, I'm not allergic to anything so far as I can tell." He answered.

"Well, there goes that plan." Hermione scoffed.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you guys! I am simultaneously working on 3 fanfics right now - this one, Beauty and the Beast, and Accidents, so please be patient with the updates! It takes a little time to write each chapter for all three fics, but I am actively working on all of them, and they will be finished! I am happy you all are enjoying this! xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

The next morning, Hermione pretended to busy herself with grading essays for Dumbldedore as Tom was getting dressed.

 

“I’m going out for a while.” He said simply and headed down the stairs and out the door.

 

Hermione set the stack of parchment aside that she had in her lap, and quickly climbed out of the chair and headed down the stairs to follow him. She wanted to know what he was doing. Since it was a Sunday, she knew he wasn’t working, and he hadn’t offered the information, and she knew better than to ask. She stayed a ways behind him so as not to draw his suspicion as she watched him disapparate by the edge of the woods. Hurrying to where he had just been standing, she was able to trace his lingering magic and follow where he had gone. She apparated behind a building in Knockturn alley not far from Borgin and Burkes, and immediately hid behind a stack of crates that were piled up. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen her, and she caught sight of him as he disappeared around the corner. She cast a disillusionment charm over herself, and crept along the wall, peeking around the edge. She watched as he stepped into a shady looking pub.

 

_Interesting._

 

She would have given anything for a bit of polyjuice potion so that she could go in and eavesdrop on the conversation. Her eyes widened when she spotted an old Apothecary just a few buildings down, and she made her way over to it as quickly as she could. Ten minutes and 3 Galleons later, a total ripoff if truth be told, she held a flask of polyjuice potion in her hand along with one of the man’s own hairs. She supposed he upped the price as an insurance policy, for all he knew, she was about to commit murder while “borrowing” his face. She grimaced and downed the contents of the small flask, and felt the chages taking place almost immediately. She was much taller now, and much much older, not to mention male. She wondered if it was normal to have a burning itchy feeling in an area she definitely was not about to explore, when she remembered she was losing valuable time. She walked slightly hunched over, and added an exaggerated limp to complete the effect. She would have to remember to pretend to be mute, since her voice was still very much her own. She opened the door of the pub, and strode purposely up to the bar near the table that Tom currently occupied, and slapped a few sickles on the bar and pointed to the fire whiskey.

 

The bartender, who looked not much younger than she currently did, waddled over and attempted conversation. _Crap_.

 

“Alright Helmut?”

 

 _Helmut? Oh. That was her apparently_.

 

Not daring to attempt to speak, she just grunted and gave the man her best evil eye and downed her glass of Fire whiskey.

 

“Aye, understood.” The bartender said and slid the bottle across the table. Apparently, if you wanted someone to leave you alone and give you booze, you just needed to look angry and grunt. Men had it so easy!

 

As she nursed her second glass of Fire whiskey, she listened in on the conversation happening at the table near to her. There were several young men seated around Tom, all of them looking at him with rapt attention.

 

“Before you hear rumors, I wanted to address this issue personally” Tom said smoothly, looking around at all the men seated before him.

 

“Due to the incompetence of the Ministry, and their oppressive legislation, I have been assigned a mudblood wife. We were married two days ago to avoid a sentence in Azkaban. I would have personally taken care of the _problem_ , however, she is Albus Dumbledore’s apprentice. He is already watching me closely, and I cannot risk him meddling in my affairs any longer. Everything we have worked for will be ruined. However, she will not interfere, and may prove to be useful being close to Dumbledore as she is.”

 

Hermione held her breath and wanted nothing more than to walk up to him and slap him across the face. She of course couldn’t do that, but she was so angry, her knuckles were turning white as she held the glass so tightly in her hand she thought it might shatter.

 

“My Lord, then let me be the first to offer my _congratulations_.”

 

Tom sneered at him, picking up on the fact that the statement although seemingly innocuous, was definitely meant as an insult.

 

“Watch your tongue, Lestrange, or I shall remove it.” Tom hissed.

 

Lestrange looked suitably chastised, and looked away from her husband.

 

“Now that that’s out of the way, what news do you have to report?” He said sipping a glass of fire whiskey that he held in his hands.

 

“My Lord, we have a lead on the object that you asked us to research.” A dark haired man spoke up from across the table.

 

“Yes, Cygnus, what information do you have?” Tom asked smoothly as he swirled his drink around his glass.

 

“I believe I have located someone who knows the whereabouts of the Diadem.” The man, Cygnus, who she knew must be Cygnus Black, answered.

 

Tom sat up straighter in his seat, very interested to hear what he had to say, “Who is it?” he asked

 

“The Grey Lady, Ravenclaw’s house ghost.” Black answered with a knowing smirk on his face.

 

“Oh? And what makes you think that the Grey Lady would know anything about Ravenclaw’s Diadem? It was Rowena Ravenclaw’s own daughter after all that stole it. Ravenclaw herself never learned of her whereabouts.” Tom asked. Was it possible that the Grey Lady had known Helena?

 

“Because the Grey Lady _is_ Helena Ravenclaw.” Cygnus said crossing his arms over his chest. He hoped he would be rewarded generously by the Dark Lord for uncovering such a valuable piece of information.

 

Tom’s eyes widened. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “How did you come by this information?” Tom demanded, wanting to be sure it was true.

 

“I was visiting old Sluggie the other day, and as I was walking through the Dungeons I quite literally ran into the Bloody Baron. We had a most interesting chat. It was he who revealed the mystery of the Grey Lady; after all he should know, he was the one who murdered her.” Cygnus explained and sipped his drink haughtily.

 

Hermione tried to act nonchalant as she nursed her drink, until she felt the tell-tale feeling of the polyjuice potion beginning to wear off. She hobbled down from her seat suddenly, not caring if she drew the attention of the men at the table, as long as she made it out of the pub before the potion wore off completely.

 

No one except Tom seemed to notice or care about the old man who left in somewhat of a rush as Tom said, “I shall have to pay her a visit then. When I recover the Diadem, you shall be rewarded for your efforts, Cygnus.”

 

Cygnus inclined his head and lifted his glass before taking a sip.

 

“That will be all gentleman.” Tom said as he stood and walked purposefully from the pub without a backwards glance.

 

Hermine’s heart skipped a beat. As she ducked into an alley and felt the effects of the potion fully wear off. Once again, she was back to her normal self, although her hair was a tad bushier than normal. Thankfully, the burning itch that had been in her crotch region wore off with the rest of the potion. She most definitely did not want to know what that was all about.

 

She once again disillusioned herself and crept along the wall until she reached the safety of Diagon Alley. She kept herself disillusioned until she reached a small shop that sold bits and bobs for doing wizardry, and slunk through the door before removing the disillusionment charm on herself. She walked around the shop browsing the knick-knacks lost in thought. She knew it was a matter of time before Tom went looking for the Diadem. He still had three horcruxes left to make; the diadem, Nagini who he had not acquired yet thankfully, and Harry. Her heart clenched when she thought about her husband attempting to kill her best friend when he was only an innocent baby.

 

“I thought you were grading essays today?” the familiar voice of her husband came from behind her.

 

She jumped, not expecting to run into him here, and plastered a pleasant smile on her face and tried to come up with a plausible excuse.

 

“I can only read so much drivel before I am rendered insane. I decided a break was in order.” Hermione said hoping he would buy her excuse.

 

“I see. And what are you looking for?” He asked raising his eyebrow at her.

 

She didn’t have an answer ready, so she looked down to the display case in front of her, which was full of thimbles.

 

“I needed a thimble.” She said lamely grabbing one from the case and holding up for him to see.

 

“A thimble.” He repeated skeptically.

 

“Yes, you know, for sewing.” She said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

 

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her with amusement.

 

“And what exactly, do you plan to sew?” he asked enjoying making her squirm. He knew she was lying, and he was almost certain she had been following him, but he was enjoying her distress far too much at the moment.

 

“There might be a need for it.” She said defensively.

 

He smirked at her, plucking the thimble from her hand and took it to the clerk.

 

“I’d like to buy this thimble.” He said smoothly to the clerk, setting it down on the counter.

 

The clerk looked at him oddly, and his eyes shifted back and forth between Tom and Hermione until he finally cleared his throat and gave Tom the price.

 

Without so much as blinking, Tom pulled the coins from his pocket and purchased the tiny thimble, plucking it back up from the counter and pulling Hermione out of the store with him. When they stepped outside of the shop, he turned to her and handed her the thimble.

 

“This is for you.” He said and he dropped it into her hand.

 

Hermione tried to bite back a smirk as she looked at the small pewter thimble, “How romantic.” She teased.

 

He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face, and to Hermione’s surprise, it seemed genuine. He began walking back towards the apparition point signaling her to follow him.

 

“You know, historically, thimbles used to be given as a token of marriage instead of a ring.” He said off-hand as he glanced sideways at her.

 

He was apparently full of useless information. Why did he even know something like that?

 

Hermione raised her eyebrow at him and smirked, “So is this you giving me a token of your undying love?” she scoffed and clutched the thimble to her chest dramatically.

 

“You said you needed it.” He said side stepping her question. She hadn’t meant for him to truly answer it anyway.

 

“You never know when there might be a sewing emergency.” She said wistfully.

 

“Or when you need a clever excuse.” He said flatly looking at her knowingly once they were out of earshot of other passers by.

 

“What do you mean?” she said nervously.

 

“You followed me.”

 

Hermione paled and began to say, “I didn’t-“ when he suddenly pulled her to him and disapparated with a crack.

 

She opened her eyes, and they were once again standing at the edge of their property.

  
“You’re lying.” He said seriously and she felt the tip of his wand against her ribcage.

 

_Shit._

 

“If you even think about Cruciating me, I’ll go straight to Dumbledore; you’ll be in Azkaban before you can blink.” Hermione threatened and watched as he gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw in frustration.

 

“You are the most infuriating witch I have ever met.” He snapped stowing his wand away.

 

“And you are an controlling, egotistical, prat.” She snapped crossing her arms over her chest. He may be a budding Dark Lord, but she wasn’t going down without a fight.

 

He laughed, “Oh? What happened to ‘psychopath’?”

 

“If the shoe fits…” she said raising an eyebrow at him.

 

“You have some nerve, _mudblood_ …” he spat venomously.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. Couldn’t he come up with anything better than that?

 

“Can’t you come up with anything more creative than that? Honestly.” She huffed and pushed past him into the house.

 

“ Hey! I wasn’t done talking to you! Don’t you walk away from me…” he yelled and followed her into the house.

 

“Well I’m done talking to _you_ , so _goodnight_.” She snapped and marched angrily up the stairs slamming the door to their bedroom. Tom stared gaping after her. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss her or kill her. At the moment, it was probably the latter.

 

That night, Tom slept on the couch.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you all! Be warned, there's lots of smut in this chapter (yay! LOL). Enjoy! xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione rose early the next morning, thankful for once in her life that it was a Monday. She quickly showered and dressed and crept quietly down the stairs, and into the living room. Tom lay asleep on the couch, and she looked at him for a moment when she noticed him shiver. She pulled the small throw blanket off of the back of the couch and placed it over him, and then leaned forward to brush a stray lock of his black hair back from is face. As she made to lean back, his eyes snapped open and he caught her wrist with his hand. She squeaked in surprise and he stared at her for a moment before he seemed to realize who she was.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice still husky from sleep.

 

“You looked cold, so I gave you a blanket…” she said lamely. She knew he had caught her brushing his hair back from his face, which had nothing to do with him being cold.

 

He quirked an eyebrow at her and looked down at himself noticing the blanket that was now draped over him.

  
“I need to get to Hogwarts.” She said awkwardly, as she tried to pull away form him.

 

“Hermione…”he said quietly

 

She closed her eyes for a moment, knowing it was too much to hope for an apology after he had called her a mudblood the day before.

 

“About yesterday; what you heard..” he began

 

Her eyes snapped up to his, “Which part would that be exactly? The part where you said you would’ve killed me if Dumbledore wasn’t in the way, or the part where you only want to see how I can be of use to you.?” She snapped, her anger from the day before returning at the memory of his words.

 

“I have no wish to kill you.” He said evenly, and she quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say she didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth.

 

“Pureblood politics are a necessary evil. I told them what they needed to hear in order to secure their continued allegiance. I have come too far to allow a primitive law passed by the ministry to interfere with my plans. I require their support if am to achieve-“

 

She cut him off, “And what is it exactly that you are trying to achieve? Tyranny? Oppression? Because from where I am standing, that’s no better. It’s Evil, Tom.” Hermione snapped

 

“There is no good or evil, Hermione, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

 

Hermione gaped at him. Did he honestly believe that? Of course he did; he was _Lord Voldemort_.

 

“I have to go.” She said quickly as she snatched her hand from his grasp and turned sharply towards the fireplace. She stopped when she heard his voice once again.

 

“I have some business with Slughorn later at the castle. You will have lunch with me.”

 

Not bothering to turn around she uttered a stiff, “Fine” before she stepped through the Floo and into the Headmaster’s office. Headmaster Dippet kindly allowed her the use of his floo since she was an honorary member of the staff as Professor Dumbledore’s assistant. Really though, she suspected that he pitied her being forced to conform to the ministry’s archaic legislation, and wanted to make her situation a little more manageable.

 

She made her way quickly down to Professor Dumbledore’s office. She had managed to avoid eye contact with him for the better part of an hour before he finally asked her to please sit down.

 

“Miss Jones, _Hermione,_ I am neither blind nor senile, and I am well aware that we have not spoken since your wedding day. It doesn’t take a seer to determine that something is bothering you.” The professor said not unkindly.

 

“Why should anything be wrong? I am married to a total psycho and no one seems to care.” She spat, a little more forcefully than she meant to. She felt a twinge of guilt as soon as the words left her mouth, since she knew that he did care, and that she was taking her anger out on the wrong person. He was certainly not the one to force this on her.

 

He nodded, “I know it seems that way, however I assure you, there are many of us here at Hogwarts that have come to care for you very much.” He said quietly.

 

Hermione sighed, “I know. I’m sorry to take it out on you. I just feel so helpless in all of this.” Hermione said tiredly.

 

“And how have things been so far?” he asked

 

She quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say, ‘ _are you even serious right now_?’ but instead just said, “Well, we’ve managed to survive two whole days without killing each other, so there’s that.” Hermione said chucking bitterly.

 

The professor’s lips quirked up in amusement despite himself, “You are a truly remarkable witch, Miss Jones. I daresay you will give Tom Riddle a run for his money, as they say.”

 

Hermione laughed, remembering how Tom had slept on the couch the night before, and felt some of the earlier tension leave her.

 

“Speaking of my husband, he said that he will be coming to Hogwarts later. He wishes to have lunch with me apparently…He also mentioned something about having business with Slughorn.”

 

Professor Dumbledore furrowed his brow at the mention of Slughorn, and made a mental note to ask him what the meeting was about.

 

“Yes, well, far be it for me to keep you from dining with your husband.” He said and chuckled as Hermione rolled her eyes. Truthfully, that was exactly what she was hoping he would do; forbid her from taking a lunch break.

 

“Well, I better get started on grading so that I might finish it before the ten o’clock lesson with Gryffindor and Slytherin.” She said picking up a hefty pile of exams from his desk and walking down to the smaller office that they had created for her to use while she served as the transfiguration apprentice.

 

The day flew by, and before Hermione knew it, it was lunchtime. The double transfiguration class between Gryffindor and Slytherin was just filing out, when her Husband stepped into the classroom.

 

Hermione had not been paying attention, but looked up sharply when she heard the incessant giggling coming from a pair of Slytherin seventh years who were shamelessly oogling her husband. Much to her dismay, she felt a jolt of possessiveness run through her, and for a brief moment, wanted to lay a kiss on him in front of them just so they would know he was taken.

 

She was startled from her thoughts when she head a throat clear behind her

“Tom.” Dumbledore said in greeting, although it was clearly a warning as well.

 

“Professor Dumbledore” Tom nodded stiffly, a fake smile plastered on his face.

 

Tom made his way over to Hermione and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, causing the two seventh year girls who had not yet exited the classroom to practically groan. Hermione had to bite back a smirk.

 

“Hermione, shall we head down to lunch?” he asked her politely

 

She flicked her gaze to Dumbledore, as if to say, ‘ _Don’t you have any work you can give me instead?_ ’ but he only smiled in return and said, “Enjoy your lunch”.

 

Tom took her arm and looped it through his as he walked with her down towards the Great Hall.

 

“I can’t believe its already been two years since I’ve left this place.” He said quietly as he took in all the familiar sights and sounds of the castle.

 

Hermione looked at him, remembering that he had told her that Hogwarts was the only place that ever felt like home to him, and she felt bad for him, but only for a moment until she remembered how much of a git he’d been to her since they’d met.

 

He looked over at her out of the corner of his eye, and could see that she was still walking stiffly beside him, as if she’d rather be doing anything else but having to put on fake smile for everyone to see while they had lunch in the Great Hall together. It was not difficult to see that she was clearly not over their argument. Making an impulsive decision, he grabbed her hand and pulled her down a rarely used corridor and she furrowed her brow wondering what he was up to.

 

“I thought we were having lunch?” she asked in confusion following along behind him.

 

“We are, just not in the Great Hall.” He said as he pulled her up short in front of a portrait of a bowl of fruit. He looked around quickly making sure no one was watching, and he reached up and tickled one of the pears.

 

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him as if he’d lost his mind.

 

Just as she was about to ask him what he was doing, the portrait slid aside, and he pulled he through into the kitchens. The house elves were busy cooking and preparing food, not paying them much mind.

 

One of the elves stopped and approached Tom, and Hermione watched him nervously. She would feel terrible if he treated it the way Lucius Malfoy had treated Dobby.

  
“Master Riddle, sir, what can I be getting you?” the small elf said looking up at Tom with adoration in his large brown eyes. To say Hermione was stunned was an understatement.

 

“Master? What does he mean?” Hermione asked still staring at the small elf in front of them.

 

“Baily served the Gaunts, and by extension, myself. I had him relocated to Hogwarts so he can be with his own kind. He seems to like it well enough, and I don’t care for slave labor, so…” Tom trailed off, wondering why he was rambling on. Its not as if she cared about the enslavement of house elves…

 

Hermione’s eyes widened and she looked at him as if she’d never seen him before.

 

“I know I said I don’t keep house elves, but Baily has been given clothes and has chosen to stay here as a free elf.” He said and then cleared his throat nervously.

 

Before he knew what was happening, Hermione threw herself at him and kissed him hard on the lips, threading her fingers through his hair, and pulling him close to her. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her kissing her back hungrily.

 

“Suddenly, I’m not very hungry…” Hermione breathed against his mouth and letting out a ragged moan when he ground himself against her.

 

He idly wondered what had caused her reaction, since this was the second time in a week that she had _pounced_ on him, but he wasn’t about to complain. He lifted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist and he felt for the door of the supply cupboard behind him. He managed to get it open with one hand without breaking the kiss, and staggered inside with her, kicking the door shut with his foot. He backed her up against a shelf and tore her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. She was past caring as she felt his tongue dart out along the edge of her bra causing wetness to pool between her thighs and a wanton moan to escape her lips. She could feel his hardness pressed against her and she writhed against him shamelessly as he fumbled with the clasp of her bra.

 

“Can you feel what you do to me?” he breathed against her lips and thrust his hips against hers.

 

Hermione was too far gone to answer and instead reached her hands down between them to open his belt. She reached her hand into his pants and grasped his cock, feeling herself become wet when he hissed in her ear.

 

She began to strok him, and he muttered a spell that made her knickers vanish. He captured her lips again and silenced her gasp with his mouth as he thrust into her. She grasped the shelf above her for support while he fucked her mercilessly in the Hogwart’s kitchen pantry. She felt her orgasm building up in her like a coiled snake ready to strike and when he groaned into her mouth as he kissed her it sent her over the edge. He felt her coming apart around him and he thrust into her a few more times before he found his release inside of her. He was breathing heavily against her cheek as her legs finally dropped from his waist and she managed to support her own weight, although just barely; her knees felt like they were made of jell-o.

 

“If I had known that lunch with you would be this pleasurable, I would have done it sooner.” He smirked at her and she rolled her eyes and pushed him off of her.

 

“Where are my knickers?” she asked looking around the pantry expecting to see them hanging inappropriately from something.

 

He grinned and pulled them out of his pocket, but when she went to reach for them he snatched them back away form her.

  
“I think I’m going to hang on to these.” He said pulling her to him again.

 

“I have class this afternoon, I can’t go back in there without any knickers, Tom.” She chided

 

“Well, you’ll just have to be extra careful not to bend over, now wont you?” he chuckled and nipped her neck with his teeth playfully.

 

“You are such a git.” She sighed narrowing his eyes at him, which only made him laugh harder at her.

 

“Actually, you should get back, class starts in ten minutes.” He said idly as he tucked her knickers back into his pocket.

 

She huffed and opened the pantry door and glared at him as she made a beeline to the girl’s lavatory before heading to the classroom. Being a transfiguration apprentice, she never in a million years imagined that skill would include transfiguring a piece of toilet paper into a temporary pair of knickers.

 

**~~{0}~~**

 

Later that evening, after Hermione finished the last of the errands Professor Dumbledore had asked her to do, she decided to stop at Honeydukes before flooing back home. It had been a while since she indulged her candy addiction, and after the thorough fucking her husband had given her on her lunch break, she felt entitled to some sugar. As she walked by the chocolate counter, she saw some dark chocolate truffles on display, and decided to purchase a few for Tom. She wasn’t above bribery to get what she wanted, afterall. As long as he kept giving her orgasms like that, she’d buy him all the chocolate he wanted.

 

When she flooed into her… _their_ …living room, Tom was sitting on the couch with a large snake coiled in his lap, and he was hissing softly to it. Hermione took one look at the snake, and shrieked, climbing up onto a nearby chair.

 

“What the hell is that?” she shrieked pointing at the large snake whose beady eyes were now trained on her as its tongue flicked out while it sized her up.

 

“This is Nagini.” Tom said calmly, stroking the snake along the top of its head.

 

“Oh hell no.” Hermione said as vivid memories surfaced of the giant snake attacking her and Harry in Godric’s Hallow.

 

“She’s staying, so you better get used to it.” Tom said with an air of finality. Hermione knew the argument was futile anyway considering he would have Nagini in the future.

 

“We’re getting her a crate then, because so help me God, Tom, if that thing slithers over me in my sleep, I’ll kill you myself.” Hermione said putting her hands on her hips while still standing on the chair.

 

Tom chuckled as he looked at Nagini and hissed something quietly to her in Parseltongue and she slithered out of the room.

 

“And to think I even brought you chocolate.” She huffed staring after the snake.

 

“You brought me chocolate?” he said with a hint of surprise in his voice, a smirk forming at the edge of his lips.

 

“You don’t deserve it, but yes, I got you some chocolate.” And she handed him the small bag of dark chocolate truffles that she had picked up from Honeydukes.

 

He grabbed one of the chocolates from the bag and took a small bite exposing the soft center. His eyes flicked up to hers and his tongue darted out to lick the center as some of the melty chocolate dribbled onto his lips. He groaned as he tasted it on his tongue.

 

Hermione’s mouth fell open, and she felt a jolt of desire run through her; watching him eat chocolate was borderline obscene. Before she knew what she was doing, she was in his lap on the couch licking the melty chocolate from his lips.

 

“I have a confession to make.” Tom said breathily in between kisses

 

“What’s that?” Hermione practically moaned as she tangled her fingers into his hair.

 

“I’ve been wondering if your pussy tastes as sweet as that chocolate…” he said against her throat

 

Hermione moaned and felt herself being lowered down on the couch as Tom hovered above her looking down at her with his lips reddened from her kisses and his hair was mussed. She thought it was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. He leaned back and she could see the outline of his cock pressing insistently against the front of his pants, and Hermione felt another pulse of desire run through her. He slid his hands under her skirt and quirked an eyebrow at her when he felt she was wearing knickers.

 

He hooked his thumbs under the elastic and pulled them off of her effortlessly and tossed them aside, flipping the front of her skirt up onto her stomach.

 

“I want you to watch me taste you.” He said huskily as he took one of her legs and hooked it over the back of the couch and pushed to other so her legs were spread before him.

 

Hermione’s heart was hammering in her chest. She had never let anyone do this before, and she felt really self-conscious until she felt his tongue delve into her. The moment his tongue brushed against her clit, all thought went out of her head completely. She watched as he grasped her thighs with his hands and his eyes locked onto hers as his tongue lapped at her. She arched her back up off the couch when she felt him slip his fingers inside of her as he continued licking and sucking relentlessly. She felt her muscles begin to clench around his fingers as her orgasm washed over her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought she heard him groan as she writhed beneath him. As he pulled away, she was still coming down from her high when she felt his cock slide into her, pumping into her hard and fast. He grasped her hips as he thrust into her, and she realized it turned her on to hear the dirty things he was saying as he fucked her

 

“You taste so fuckin sweet, better than I imagined…fuck Hermione…” he was saying

 

she was so close to coming again and the way he was talking was making her feel dirty and alive all at the same time. She wanted to see if she was affecting him the way he was affecting her

 

“God, Yes, Tom…fuck me hard, just like that….” She moaned and reached her hand down to touch herself as he had done before.

 

She could swear she saw his eyes darken at her words, and she noticed that his breathing had sped up and he was biting his lip as he pounded into her now within moments he let go of a string of obscenities as he came. The only word that could describe what they had just done was _intense_.

 

She scooted over so he could collapse behind her on the couch, as he was still trying to catch his breath.

 

She looked at him and couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in her throat.

 

He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment trying to discern what she thought was so funny.

 

“I can’t believe we had sex in the Hogwart’s kitchen pantry this afternoon.” Hermione laughed.

 

“Yes, you were a very naughty girl today, _Mrs. Riddle_.” He said smirking and kissing her neck.

 

Hermione felt a spark of desire course through her when he referred to her as ‘ _Mrs. Riddle_ ’. Truthfully, it should have disgusted her, but for some inexplicable reason, it turned her on.

 

“What can I say, you have been a bad influence on me, _husband_.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for the delay in updates, I was on vacation with my family! Back to our regularly scheduled programming! (also, I am working on chapters for Beauty and the Beast and Accidents.) There is smut and snark in this chapter, so be warned! As always, drop me a comment and let me know if you liked it! xo

Hermione awoke early the next morning, surprised to find that she was still completely nude with Tom’s arms still wrapped securely around her. After he had ravished her on their couch, they both had fallen asleep. Who knew Voldemort was a cuddler? She never would have guessed. She felt him stir and sigh in contentment, followed by the feel of his lips brushing her neck, and something hard against her backside. Apparently, the Dark Lord was horny first thing in the morning.

 

Not wanting to miss an opportunity to use it to her advantage, she pressed herself back against him, and covered his hands with hers, moving them up to her breasts. She heard him groan, and she bit back a smirk.

 

“I should buy you chocolate more often. It makes you so much more tolerable.” Hermione said, grinning as she felt one of his hands slip down between her legs.

 

“Tolerable? If I recall, it was _you_ who was begging _me_ to fuck you last night.” He said huskily in her ear as he slid his fingers into her.

 

Hermione bit her lip as pushed her hips forward against his hand in encouragement

 

“I can still taste you on my tongue…” he whispered against her throat

 

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione whimpered and when he pulled his hand away and brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them.

 

“You’re like a drug to me…” he breathed against her skin, causing her to shiver with desire.

 

Hermione lifted her leg over his and gasped when he enter her, arching her back and pressing herself against him. His hand ran along her hip and dipped down between her legs to continue stroking her.

 

Hermione moaned and reached behind her, grasping the back of his neck for support as his cock pumped into her. She wanted to see him lose his control, to be completely at her mercy; it made her feel powerful that she had that effect on him. She knew just how to do it…

 

“God, yes, Tom, you feel so good…”

 

She heard him groan, and he deliberately slowed his movement so that he was sliding into her torturously slow.

  
“This is what you do to me…Do you feel how hard I am for you?” he breathed against her throat.

 

A pulse of desire ran through her from the combination of his words and the way he was teasing her with his cock, making her heart beat faster

 

“You make me so hard…all of it is for you…every inch…”

 

She was practically panting now, and his fingers were still circling her clit and driving her mad combined with each slow thrust.

 

“God you’re so wet for me Hermione…fuck…”

 

There was something visceral about hearing him say the word _fuck_ while he was fucking her that sent her over the edge. She gasped and tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and she heard him growl in response. He began to pound into her as she started to come, the feeling of her muscles tightening around him drove him over the edge, making him come hard inside of her.

 

Hermione was still trying to catch her breath, and she felt his hand brush her cheek and turn her face towards him

 

“I much prefer waking up on the couch this way.” He said with a smirk before capturing her lips with his. Hermione smiled against his lips knowing he was teasing her about making him sleep on the couch the previous night after their fight.

 

“Yes, well, if you play nice, maybe I’ll let you sleep in the bed with me tonight.” Hermione said biting back a smirk.

 

“Oh, I can play nice, Hermione, but why do I get the feeling that you wouldn’t like that as much? I think you like fucking the _bad guy_.” He chuckled at her.

 

Hermione snorted, “So you admit you’re the bad guy then?”

“Well, according to you I am, yet you practically purr when I touch you. I wonder why that is?” Tom said sliding his hand over her stomach possessively.

 

“I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with your charming personality.” Hermione smirked.

 

Tom laughed and the nipped Hermione’s neck with his teeth, his hand still caressing her stomach.

 

“Well, I suppose I should let you get up, I wouldn’t want Dumbledore to blame me for your tardiness, although I get the feeling he would happily do it anyway.” Tom said sarcastically as he leaned up on his elbow to look down at her.

 

“Why do you dislike him so much?” Hermione asked curiously. She was well aware why Professor Dumbledore was suspicious of Tom, rightly so, but she wanted to hear Tom’s side of it.

 

“He has always been suspicious of me since the moment he met me. Ever since he found out I was a Parselmouth.” Tom said cryptically.

 

“When did he find out?” Hermione asked, wanting to understand more about the dynamic between these two powerful wizards.

 

“When I was eleven he came to visit me at the Orphanage to tell me about Hogwarts. Up until that point, I had no idea magic existed, other than the abilities I seemed to have. I knew I was different, but I didn’t understand why until that day. Before he left, I told him I could speak to snakes. I asked him if that was normal for someone with magical ability. He didn’t answer me, he just left. From that point on, he treated me with disdain and suspicion. He never trusted me.”

 

Hermione bit her lip, “But he had a reason to, didn’t he…You opened the Chamber of secrets, Tom.” Hermione said quietly.

 

He didn’t answer, but instead stood and pulled his pants back on, not bothering to fasten them.

 

“You should get ready for work.” He said before he walked out of the room.

 

Hermione stood from the couch, and reluctantly made her way back upstairs to take a shower and get dressed.

 

  
~~{0}~~

 

 

“I didn’t see you in the Great Hall yesterday, I thought you and your husband were heading there for lunch.” Professor Dumbledore asked her as she was organizing the student papers that needed grading.

 

Hermione cringed, remembering what she and her husband had been doing on her lunch break the day before.

 

“Tom decided he wanted to eat at the Three Broomsticks instead” Hermione lied, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue. The idea of admitting to Professor Dumbledore that she had a quickie in the Hogwart’s kitchen pantry was not something she wanted to do… _ever_.

 

“I see. I did speak with Horace, and he mentioned that he hasn’t spoken to your husband in some time. You understand my concern.” Professor Dumbledore explained.

 

Realization dawned on her that he most likely came to the castle to speak with the Grey Lady; Helena Ravenclaw, to discover the location of the diadem. Knowing for certain that Tom was the Heir of Slytherin, and therefore able to open the chamber of secrets was certainly a valid reason for his concern.

 

“You think he came to open the chamber again?” Hermione asked

 

“I had suspected it, but thankfully, my protective wards are still in place around the second floor girl’s lavatory. It seems whatever he came here to do, had nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets.” Professor Dumbledore explained.

 

Hermione nodded, “I believe he was just after information. Whether he got it, I can’t be certain.” Hermione said cryptically. She didn’t want to reveal events of the future to Professor Dumbledore before he was meant to find out.

 

He nodded, understanding that she couldn’t say more. At least he seemed relieved that his presence there hadn’t caused any harm.

 

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

Later that day, Hermione was tempted to seek out the Grey Lady herself just to see if she had revealed anything to Tom, but she decided to try being direct and ask her husband first. She doubted he would tell her, but maybe he would surprise her.

 

As Hermione was packing up her bag with the essays she would have to take home to grade, she remembered Nagini. Ugh, she _hated_ that snake. Granted, Nagini was nowhere near as large yet as she would grow to be in the future, but as far as snakes went, she seemed to have a nasty attitude; it was almost as if she was jealous of Hermione. Even if Tom laid down the ground rules with her about staying out of their bedroom, Hermione didn’t believe for one second that she wouldn’t try do to anyway. With her mind made up, she headed down to the Headmaster’s office to use his Floo. Instead of heading straight home, Hermione Flooed to Diagon Alley and purchased a rather large crate. If Tom thought that she had been kidding about that, he had another thing coming.

 

As Hermione stepped through the floo and into their living room, Tom stood with his arms across his chest frowning at the large crate that appeared in the middle of the floor.

 

“What the hell is this?” He asked pointing to it

 

Hermione boldly met his gaze and put her hands on her hips to show him she meant business.

 

“That is Nagini’s crate.” Hermione said matter of fact.

 

“She’s not sleeping in a crate, Hermione, return it.” Tom snapped glaring at her.

 

“Yes, she is. There is no way that I am going to allow that thing to creep up on me when I am sleeping.”

 

Tom scoffed, “She knows she’s not allowed in our bedroom, Hermione, don’t be ridiculous.”

 

Hermione looked at the snake that was partially wrapped around Tom’s leg possessively, and Hermione could swear it was mocking her.

 

“She hates me, Tom. She’ll try to kill me the first chance she gets!” Hermione snapped pointing at Nagini.

 

“Hate is a strong word, Hermione, it’s really more of a general dislike.” Tom said rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and looking at her sheepishly.

 

“She told you, didn’t she…she told you that she doesn’t like me…” Hermione accused, narrowing her eyes at Nagini.

 

Nagini made a strike towards Hermione and hissed. Tom had the nerve to _laugh_ , but he quickly tried to school his features.

 

“You think this is funny? How’s this for funny?” Hermione said angrily as she transfigured one of her heels into a Mongoose.

 

Tom watched in fascinated horror as Nagini immediately unwound herself from Tom’s leg and slithered off at lightning speed away form the Mongoose. His eyes snapped back up to Hermione who now had a smug smile plastered on her face.

 

“Now, either she sleeps in the damn crate, or she too can sleep with one eye open.” Hermione said crossing her arms.

 

Tom stood gaping at her for a moment before he closed the distance between them and pulled her roughly to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. Hermione distantly heard the sound of breaking glass coming from one of the other rooms but decided to ignore it and instead slid her hands into Tom’s hair while his hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom. She wasn’t sure how he would react to her little stunt, but she needed to show him that she wasn’t going to be told what to do. Apparently he liked bossy Hermione.

 

When he broke the kiss, he was smirking at her, and she noticed his hand was still planted firmly on her ass.

 

“That was very foolish, you know. If Nagini hadn’t wanted to kill you before, she certainly does now.”

 

Hermione hadn’t thought about it that way. _Crap_.

 

“Well, She and I will need to get a few things straight if we are to coexist in this house.” Hermione said stubbornly.

 

“And how do you propose you are going to do that, since you don’t speak Parseltongue?” Tom chuckled.

  
“Well, either you can translate, though honestly, I don’t trust you either, so I’m not really in favor of that plan, or I can use a translating charm.”

 

“You don’t trust me?” Tom said arching an eyebrow.

 

“Not even a little bit.” Hermione smirked.

 

“Smart girl.” He mumbled under his breath, “Fine. I’ll explain to her that she will have to sleep in the crate, but you will apologize to her for the Mongoose.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. He was worried about the snake’s feelings? _Really?!_

 

“She started it.” Hermione muttered under her breath as Tom had strode across the room to call Nagini

 

“I heard that.” Tom said smirking at her over his shoulder. A moment later, Hermione was rooted to the spot when her husband, no her _hot_ husband, started hissing like a snake. A moment later, Nagini slithered into the room towards Tom, with the mongoose hot on her tail. Hermione had her wand out, and pointed it at the mongoose and said, ‘ _finite_ ’. Where the mongoose had been only moments before, now lay one of Hermione’s heels.

 

Nagini hissed one last time at Hermione, and then focused her attention on Tom. Once again Tom started with the hissing, and to her utter mortification, Hermione had to bite back a groan at how sexy she found it. She could see he was pointing to the crate, and her lips twitched at the clear sign of agitation that the snake was exhibiting. She obviously did not like what Tom was telling her one bit.

 

_Too bad, you legless pest, I win._

 

Tom then looked expectantly at Hermione, “Now, you should apologize.”

 

“You were serious about that?” Hermione scoffed.

 

“Yes, you’re not exactly one of her favorite people right now, so I suggest if you don’t want venom injected into your ankles every time you pass by the couch, I suggest you say you’re sorry.” Tom said in an authoritative tone that Hermione imagined he probably used a lot when he was Head Boy. It turned her on even more.

 

“Fine. Nagini, I’m sorry I set the mongoose on you, but you kind of asked for it.” Hermione sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest. This was so ridiculous.

 

“Hermione…” Tom said once again in that same tone and she shivered. She needed to get him in bed again, stat.

 

Hermione sighed, “Nagini, I’m sorry. I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine.”

 

Nagini looked at Hermione and hissed one last time and then seemed to settle down.

 

“She agreed to sleep in the crate but only because I asked her nicely.” Tom said smirking, “She promised me she wouldn’t bite you, but she still dislikes you.” Tom chuckled.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “The feeling is entirely mutual, I assure you.”

 

Hermione walked over to pick up her shoe while Tom secured Nagini in the crate for the night before they headed up stairs.

 

Hermione was glancing at him out of the corner of her eye and trying to bite back a smirk.

 

“What is it that has you smirking like that?” Tom asked, wondering what she could possibly be thinking about.

 

“Do you still have your Hogwart’s uniform?” Hermione asked biting her lip nervously.

 

Tom furrowed his brow in confusion, “Probably, why?”

 

“Nothing, nevermind.” Hermione said quickly regretting having asked.

  
“No, tell me…I’m curious now.” He said noticing how flushed her cheeks were.

 

“I just…when you were talking you sounded very authoritative and…”

 

Tom smirked knowingly, “You have a fantasy about getting fucked by the Head Boy, don’t you?”

 

She wasn’t sure if it was possible for her cheeks to go any redder, since they already felt like they were on fire, “God, yes!” she admitted

 

Tom chuckled, honestly, it had never crossed his mind, but seeing how much Hermione seemed to like the idea, he would happily dig out that uniform, Head Boy pin and all.

 

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Tom said as he nipped her neck before opening the door to their bedroom.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major smut ahead! Proceed with caution! We'll also be learning soon in coming chapters more about Tom's shady dealings.

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione was getting dressed for work when she felt Tom’s arms slide around her waist. She felt his lips brush her ear as he whispered into it

 

“Meet me in the Room of Requirement tonight after your through for the day.”

 

Hermione stiffened. She wasn’t sure what to make of his request, and he hadn’t told her why he wanted her to meet him. Before she could ask, he was already heading down the stairs, presumably to coddle his obnoxious snake. She furrowed her brows, trying to figure out what he was up to. It did cross her mind that maybe he did want to kill her after all, but she rather hoped not. She was telling the truth when she had told him that she didn’t trust him, but she did believe him when he said he had no desire to kill her.

 

Hermione picked up her bag and headed downstairs. Nagini was now out of her crate, and coiled by the fireplace staring at Hermione as if to say, _come closer, I dare you_.

 

Hermione sighed. Maybe she could pick up some snake treats on her way home tonight. Do they even make snake treats? If chocolate worked on Tom, maybe snake treats would work on Nagini. It was worth a try.

 

She hurried through the Floo before Nagini could strike at her, and Professor Dippet turned to see her brushing soot off of her cloak and stepping into his office rather clumsily.

 

“Good Morning, Mrs. Riddle, Please give my regards to your husband when you see him.”

 

Hermione nodded, she knew how much the Headmaster adored Tom. He had him fooled just like everyone else with the glaring exception of herself and Professor Dumbledore.

  
“Of course, Headmaster.” Hermione smiled politely and hurried down to her small office near the Transfiguration class room, and got herself organized for the day before stopping into the Great Hall for a bite to eat before classes started.

 

She slid into the seat next to Professor Dumbledore and poured herself a cup of tea.

 

“Good morning, Professor.”

 

“Good morning, Mrs. Riddle.” Professor Dumbledore said smiling at her as Hermione cringed. She would never get used to people calling her that. They may as well be calling her ‘ _traitor_ ’.

 

“You look tired this morning. I hope your husband isn’t to blame.” The professor said innocently.

 

Hermione’s eyes widened for a moment, thinking he somehow knew that her husband had thoroughly shagged her last night, but then she realized he was referring to the argument she had told him about the day before.

 

“We have come to an understanding I think.” She answered not wanting to talk about it. Truthfully, they hadn’t discussed it any further. The reality was that Tom could be an arrogant prick at the best of times, and he was stubborn to a fault. She was realizing that with him, it was better to pick her battles.  

 

“I’m glad to hear it. If he mistreats you, I hope you know that you can talk to me.” The Professor said quietly.

 

“Thank you, Professor, I do know that.” She wasn’t about to tell him that she had already threatened Tom with that exact scenario on more than one occasion.

 

Classes passed by quickly, and Hermione had taken only a quick lunch break so that she could finish up some of the grading that needed to be completed. On the whole, the essays she had read from the seventh years were mediocre at best. Only a few students stood out as being vaguely intelligent. It frustrated her honestly, because it seemed to her that these students just didn’t take education as seriously as they should; but then again, not everyone was like her. Except for Tom. He had been incredibly intelligent without even trying. Hermione would never admit that she was more than slightly jealous.

 

By three o’clock, classes were finished and she had a free period that she could use to do research. Hermione had always used this time to search for whatever she could on time-travel. She had refused to accept that she was well and truly stuck in the past. As she walked through the restricted section, an idea that she hadn’t given much thought formed in her mind; she had been transported back in time by the time turner, however it happened while destroying a horcrux. What if somehow, the horcrux was part of it? She knew that it must have at least dictated the point in time she had arrived to, but could it also be tied to sending her back? Hermione ran her fingers over the spines of the books as she passed, until she got to the section that contained quite a bit of dark magic. Her stomach turned at the thought of even looking for a book on horcruxes, however, it seemed imperative that she find out how it may have affected the time turner. Her fingers stopped at a book titled _Magica de Immortalis_. She picked it up, feeling her heartbeat quicken. She looked around quickly to be sure no one was around before she flipped through the pages. There, as she suspected was a section on horcruxes. This had to have been the book that Tom had found that had sent him to Slughorn. There was actually quite a bit of information on how horcruxes worked, but very little information on how one would go about making one. It made sense to her now why Tom had asked Slughorn about it. As she read, she was not surprised to see that there was virtually no information regarding how a horcrux might affect another magical object, specifically a time-turner. She was pretty sure at this point that she was probably the only witch to have ever accidentally sent herself back in time in this manner. A detail that did catch her eye though was about how horcruxes are tied into the suspension of time, meaning that when one makes a horcrux, they can essentially store a piece of their soul indefinitely. She placed the book back on the shelf, and headed back to her office. She would have to think more about how a powerful object such as a horcrux could have the ability to affect time travel.

 

As she opened the door to her office, she noticed a package sitting on her desk with a small piece of parchment with her name written on it. She furrowed her brow, wondering who would have sent her something, and she cautiously approached it. Running her wand over it, she didn’t detect any signs it being cursed, so she picked up the parchment and read it.

 

_Hermione,_

_Put this on, then come to the Room of Requirement under a disillusionment charm. I’ll be waiting._

_Yours,_

_~Tom_

 

Hermione’s curiosity got the better of her, and she picked up the package. She hoped to God it wasn’t a hooded cloak and a Death Eater mask, because it if was, she would definitely not be putting that on. To her surprise, it was a standard girl’s Hogwart’s uniform; the pleated skirt, white button down oxford shirt, sweater, and a tie. She had to bite back a laugh that he had chosen a Gryffindor tie. She had never told him she had been in Gryffindor, but somehow, he knew. She warded her office door, not wanting to explain to Professor Dumbledore why she was squeezing herself into a Hogwart’s student uniform that was admittedly a little on the small side. The shirt was tight against her breasts, and the skirt was quite a bit shorter than she was used to. She vaguely wondered if Tom had shrunk them on purpose. Once she was dressed, she cast a disillusionment spell on herself and crept as quietly as she could up to the seventh floor corridor. She paced back and forth in front of the wall thinking of the place the Tom Riddle was waiting for her. A door appeared, so she quickly stepped inside and removed the disillusionment charm from herself. She was surprised to see that the room was an exact copy of the Hogwart’s library, although it was thankfully, empty.

 

She wandered around the room until she came upon the restricted section, and crept quietly through the gate.

 

“Miss Jones. Care to explain why you are out of your common room past curfew?”

 

_Oh shit. That voice…_

 

Hermione turned to face him, her cheeks flushed and her mouth slightly parted taking in the sight of him. His hair was perfectly combed, and his Hogwart’s uniform was perfectly pressed right down to his green and silver Slytherin tie, with his Head Boy pin gleaming on his sweater. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, arching an eyebrow at her waiting for her answer.

 

“I…I didn’t think anyone would be in here…” she stuttered lamely raking her eyes over him.

  
“That’s no excuse, Miss Jones, not to mention that you are in the Restricted section. I don’t suppose you have a pass?” He asked looking down his nose at her.

 

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

 

“You realize the punishment for breaking curfew and trespassing into the restricted section without a pass is quite severe, do you not?”

 

“Yes, but…” She began before he cut her off again

 

“Do you want to be punished, Miss Jones?”

 

_God, Yes_.

 

Hermione felt wetness pool between her thighs, and she shifted uncomfortably.

  
“Answer me, Miss Jones, do you think you should be punished?” Tom pressed

 

“Y…Yes” Hermione stuttered, her voice sounding breathy

 

“Very well. Go stand in front of that desk.” He said pointing to a desk near to where they were standing.

 

Hermione tried her best to look contrite as she made her way over to the desk and stood in front of it uncertainly.

 

“Place your hands on the desk and spread your legs.” Tom commanded.

 

Hermione’s eyes widened, and she stood looking at him like a frightened rabbit.

 

“Please, I won’t do it again, I’ll go back to my common room.” Hermione pleaded

 

“It’s too late for that, Miss Jones, you broke the rules. Now you must be punished.” Tom scolded her, standing a few feet behind her watching her expectantly.

 

_He was so good at this…_

 

Hermione bit her lip and placed her hands flat on the desk as he instructed, and stood bent over the desk with her feet apart.

 

He didn’t say anything, but she heard him move forward, and suddenly her skirt was flipped up onto her lower back, and his hand was caressing her behind.

 

“Another strike against you, Miss Jones, these black knickers you are wearing blatantly disregard the school dress code. As such, I am well within my authority as Head Boy to remove them and punish you as I see fit.” He said before swiftly pulling down her knickers, leaving her exposed to him. He was moving his hand over her ass again now touching her everywhere but where she desperately wanted him to touch her. Suddenly she felt his hand come down on her with a sharp slap and she gasped in surprise and looked over her shoulder at him.

 

“Please…don’t” she begged giving him a pleading look over her shoulder.

 

“You deserve punishment, Miss Jones, now take it like a good girl.”

 

_Oh God._

 

She felt his hand come down on her several more times, and her ass felt hot where he had spanked her. And then his hand slid down between her legs and she moaned as his finger ran along her slit. She was embarrassingly wet, and now he knew it too.

 

“It seems you’ve taken some pleasure form your punishment, Miss Jones. Is it that you liked being spanked, or that you like it when _I_ spank you?

 

She was practically panting now and her voice came out in a breathy moan, “You”

 

“Clearly spanking you then was no punishment at all. You leave me little choice, I’m going to have to go to the Headmaster about this and…” he began before she cut him off.

 

“Wait! Isn’t there anything I can do to change your mind?” she said turning around to face him, still leaning against the desk.

 

“Have you reduced yourself to bribery now, Miss Jones?” Tom said mockingly.

 

Hermione’s eyes raked over him noticing the obvious bulge in his pants. He was clearly enjoying this as much as she was. _Good_. She boldly took a step towards him, forcing herself to meet his eyes, still shyly biting her lip. She slid her hand over his hard cock, watching as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and his eyes slipped shut momentarily before they opened again looking almost black with lust.

 

“If I take you in my mouth will you let me go?” she asked raking her nails over the outside of his pants for added incentive

 

“Hardly a fitting punishment for your transgressions, but if you please me, I’ll consider it.”

 

Hermione dropped to her knees in front of him, staring at the large bulge in his pants.

 

“I’ve…I’ve never done this before.” She admitted shyly

 

His eyes widened slightly, unsure if she was just saying that as part of the game, or if she was telling the truth. The thought of instructing her on how to suck him off was extremely arousing.

 

“Undo my pants and wrap your hand around my cock.”

 

Hermione did as he instructed, and flicked her eyes back up to his waiting for his instruction

 

“Now slide your hand up and down while swirling your tongue over the tip”

 

She could see that his breathing had sped up so she began to stroke him and tentatively licked the bead of moisture from the head of his cock with her tongue.

 

She heard him let out a hiss. _Was that Parseltongue_?

 

“Is this okay?” she asked innocently as she continued to lick and suck on the end of his cock like a lollypop.

 

“Ugh…yeah…that’s….Just like that. Now take it deeper.”

 

His hands slid into her hair and he began to rock his hips towards her mouth as she took more of him in. He was hitting the back of her throat now, and Hermione felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment when she gagged a few times. He apparently liked that though, because he groaned whenever it happened and gripped her hair tighter.

 

“When I come in your mouth, you’re going to swallow it all like a good girl, aren’t you?” he said huskily as she continued at the pace he had set. She felt him beginning to tense and knew he must be close. A Moment later she heard him hissing in what she was sure was Parseltongue this time as she felt him come in her mouth. She swallowed it quickly and sat back on her heels looking up at him expectantly.

 

“Did I please you? Can I go now?” she asked timidly

 

Please say no…please say no.

 

“Tell me, did you like sucking my cock, Miss Jones?”

 

She bit her lip again and looked away from him, choosing not to answer.

 

“Miss Jones if having my cock in your mouth was as pleasurable to you as the spanking, I am still not convinced that you learned your lesson.”

 

_No I haven’t…_

 

“I swear I learned my lesson. I’ll follow the rules from now on.” She pleaded

 

“I don’t believe you Miss Jones. Lie back on the desk.” He commanded.

 

Hermione stood from her kneeling position in front of him and moved back over to the desk and did as he asked.

 

“I’ll know if you’re lying to me, Miss Jones. Do you know how I can tell?” he asked coming to stand in front of her. He gently grasped her legs and set her heels on the edge of he desk so her legs were bent and he pushed her legs open.

 

Hermione’s heart was pounding in her chest in anticipation of what he was about to do.

 

“You definitely enjoyed having my cock in your mouth, Miss Jones. You know how I can tell?”

 

Hermione shook her head not trusting herself to speak.

 

“Your pussy is so wet that it’s dripping down your thighs. Would you like it if I made you come, Miss Jones?”

 

_Yes Please…_

 

“Yes…” Hermione whispered as she squirmed on the desk in front of him

 

Tom ran his hands down her thighs and gripped her hips as he swiped his tongue over her slit and she practically bucked her hips towards his face and moaned with need.

 

He continued to lick and suck on her clit, sliding two fingers inside of her, pumping them in and out as he flicked his tongue over her in a rhythm that was driving her wild. She was panting now and had her hands tangled in his hair as she writhed beneath him. He could tell that she was close and he sucked her clit into his mouth and curled his fingers inside of her sending her over the edge. She felt her walls clamp down around his fingers as she cried out as he continued to lap at her as she rode out her orgasm.

 

“It seems we have a problem, Miss Jones.”

 

_Uh oh…_

 

“You’ve gotten my cock hard again. What are you going to do about that?”

 

“You could fuck me…if you wanted to.” She said in a way that made her seem inexperienced, and she could tell that he liked it.

 

“Have you ever been fucked before, Miss Jones?”

 

“mmm…No I haven’t.” she lied.

 

“So you’re a virgin then?” he asked disbelievingly.

 

“Yes.” She answered

 

“Well, it seems that fucking you would be a fitting punishment then, don’t you think?”

 

“Is it going to hurt?” she asked looking at him with wide eyes, enjoying the reaction she was eliciting in him.

 

“This is a punishment, Miss Jones, you will take every inch.” He answered as he began to open his pants and step between her legs.

 

_Fuck…_

 

His cock was hard and ready for her and he rubbed it against her clit making her gasp with need, then he began to push into her. He groaned as he sunk all the way into her as she arched her back up off the desk, thrusting her hips towards his.

 

“You like the way my cock feels inside you, don’t you, Miss Jones?” he asked as he began to pump into her

 

“God yes…harder….” Hermione breathed too far-gone to care about staying in character now.

 

She heard him groan when she reached a hand down to stoke herself while he fucked her.

 

“So wet for me… _fuck_ ….” He groaned as began to pick up his pace sliding into her even deeper.

 

“Don’t stop….ahh…Just like that…I’m going to…”

 

She didn’t even finish the sentence before he felt her muscles clench around his cock while she came hard around him. He came inside her a few moments later with an animalistic growl.

 

He pulled out of her breathing heavily and held his hand out to her to help her sit up.

 

“That was…wow. I’m not sure I can walk right now.” Hermione chuckled

 

He slipped his arms around her waist still standing between her legs and kissed her hungrily on the lips. As he pulled away, he smirked at her

 

“So was getting fucked by the Head Boy everything you imagined it would be?” he chuckled

 

“It was better…so much better.” She said and kissed him again.

 

“And to think, _you_ accused _me_ of being into kink. I think its the other way around _Darling_.” Tom smirked.

 

“Oh please, you enjoyed it every but as much as I did.” She said as she hopped off the desk and pulled her knickers back on.

 

He pulled her back against him, his breath hot on her neck, as he whispered “Yes, I did.”

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I hope you all enjoyed that Head Boy fantasy…LOL, now we get to see more of what Tom is up to…xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione awoke the next morning and her thoughts drifted back to Tom wearing his Hogwart’s uniform, and her lips twitched into a small smile. She would have gotten herself into so much trouble if they had actually gone to school together, although she doubted that the punishments would have included getting fucked over a desk. More than likely, he would have given her detention with filch, or something equally unsavory. Shaking her head at the ridiculous line of thought, she climbed out of bed and took a shower and then got dressed for work. She grabbed her bag and headed down to the kitchen for a quick cup of tea before she headed to Hogwart’s. Tom was already in the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen island sipping his coffee and reading the Daily Prophet as was his custom.

 

“Good morning.” She said blushing when he looked up at her over his coffee cup.

 

He smirked at her enjoying how easy it was to make her blush, “I spoke with Dippett this morning to let him know that you will be taking some time off for our… _honeymoon_ , “ Tom said making a face as he said it as if the word were offensive, “I’ll leave it to you to notify Dumbledore of your absence. We leave tomorrow morning.”

 

Hermione furrowed her brows wondering what this was all about. She was sure Tom was not actually interested in whisking her off for some romantic getaway.

 

“And where exactly are we going?” she asked suspiciously raising her eyebrows at him

 

He narrowed his eyes at her tone, “Albania.” He said flatly.

 

“Albania.” She repeated.

“Yes, are you deaf?” He snapped.

 

Hermione gritted her teeth. Last night was great, but now he had to go and open his mouth and speak to her in that snotty way he did that drove her up a wall.

 

“Tom, why the hell are you taking me to Albania?” she sighed pinching the bridge of her nose.

  
“Would you prefer I went by myself? Because I would gladly do it.” He said flipping the page of the newspaper with more force than necessary.

 

“That’s not…I mean why are we going there? What is in Albania? Because I’m not fooled into thinking this trip has anything to do with romance.” She said trying to speak calmly.

  
“The reason is not your concern. The only reason I am taking you, is because our recent wedding will deter certain people from asking too many questions regarding my absence. You will tell Dumbledore that we are going away for a few weeks in whatever way that you think he would find believable. He doesn’t need to know anymore than that.”

 

Suddenly, things began to click into place.

 

“You never met with Slughorn the other day, it was Helena Ravenclaw you spoke with, wasn’t it.” Hermione accused.

 

Tom sighed, he knew she would probably figure it out eventually, but he hadn’t wanted her to interfere with his plan. He didn’t answer, but continued to glare at her folding his arms across his chest.

 

“The Diadem is in Albania then.” Hermione said quietly setting her teacup down.

 

“Yes.” He answered honestly.

 

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. Had he not listened to anything she had told him about the future?

 

“Tom, I told you what will happen-“ she began

 

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t go that way, I’ll-“

 

“No! it won’t make a difference Tom! Don’t do this. _Please…_ ”

 

His closed his eyes and she could see a muscle twitching in his jaw as he gritted his teeth. Finally, he opened his eyes and leveled his gaze at her, “I have to.”

 

The look he gave her when he said it could have frozen lava.

 

Hermione’s lip trembled as she tried to mask her emotions, she was not about to let him see her cry.

 

“You should get going, you’re going to be late.” He said with an air of finality that put an end to the discussion.

 

Hermione glanced at her tea, and decided she couldn’t stomach finishing it, and grabbed her bag as she brushed past him towards the fireplace.

 

~~{0}~~

 

“I apologize sincerely for the late notice, professor, but you must understand how sudden all of this has been.” Hermione said

 

Professor Dumbledore looked at her critically for a moment, as if he was trying to decide whether or not she was telling him the truth.

 

“I quite understand, Hermione. I’m certain I can manage for two weeks without you.”

 

She nodded and began to turn towards his office door when he spoke again

  
“Is there anything you wish to tell me, Hermione?” He asked giving her the chance to tell him the truth.

 

“Professor-“ she began

 

“Please, call me Albus. We are colleagues, after all.” He said giving her a small smile.

 

“Albus, Of course. I know that you have very good reason to distrust my husband, but I am asking you to trust _me_.” She said evenly, meeting his eyes.

 

“I do trust you, Hermione. I know there are certain things you cannot tell me due to the nature of your predicament, but if you are ever in danger, know that I will help you.” He told her, and the twinkle that she so loved returned to his watery blue eyes.

 

“Thank you, Albus.” She said giving him a small smile before she left his office and headed to her own to get organized for the day.

 

~~{0}~~

 

That evening, when she stepped through the floo, Tom wasn’t home. She was still angry about how he had treated her that morning, but she knew ultimately, it was pointless; Tom was going to do what Tom wanted to do, regardless of her opinions. He wouldn’t be apologizing any time soon, and nagging at him about it would only make things worse. She sighed, and dropped her bag on the chair as she walked into the kitchen and pulled a pint of rocky road ice cream from the freezer and grabbed a spoon before plopping herself into a chair feeling sorry for herself. Her husband may not be able to make her feel better, but dammit, ice cream would. And that is how Tom found her, sitting in an armchair clutching the ice cream container to her chest with the spoon in her mouth.

 

“You’ll get fat if you eat too much of that.”

 

It was said so innocently, yet it was completely the _wrong_ thing to say.

 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, and just to spite him, she scooped out a big spoonful and shoved it in her mouth. He was controlling her in just about every other way, so she was not about to let him control her calorie intake as well.

 

“How was your day, dear? Murder any innocent children today?” she said snidely raising her eyebrow at him as she continued to eat her ice cream.

 

Tom glared at her and leaned down in front of the chair she was sitting in, grasping the arms on either side of her with his hands

  
“What is your problem?” he asked

 

“That’s a loaded question…” Hermione scoffed.

 

Tom rolled his eyes at her sarcasm. Clearly, she was still pissed.

 

“What is so terrible about spending two weeks in Albania? It’s beautiful there.” He pressed.

 

“It’s not the view, Tom, it’s the company.” She hissed and stood from her seat pushing him away from her.

 

“You weren’t saying that last night…” He said as he grabbed her and pulled her back against his chest before she could walk away from him.

 

“The ice cream is melting…” She said weakly trying to calm the frantic beating of her heart that happened every time he touched her.

 

“I don’t care about the ice cream.” He said as he nuzzled her neck and started kissing her bare shoulder.

 

Hermione sucked in a breath, cursing her traitorous body for melting against him as he kissed her neck.

 

He lifted his hand and took the container of ice cream from her and as she turned around to kiss him, he side stepped her and took a bite of the ice cream and walked into the kitchen with it laughing. She just stood there gaping after him. Bastard stole her ice cream.

 

She followed him into the kitchen and he was sitting on the kitchen counter smirking at her and eating her ice cream. She walked over to him and snatched it out of his hands and put it back in the freezer.

 

As he licked the last of it off the spoon, which Hermione admittedly found erotic, he broached the topic of their trip once again.

 

“So what did Dumbledore say?” he asked casually

 

“I told him that I was sorry for the late notice, but since everything had happened so quickly, it didn’t leave us much time to plan. He understood.”

  
“That’s it? No questions? No suspicion?” he asked surprised.

 

“Well, I haven’t given him a reason not to trust me, have I Tom?” Hermione said flatly.

 

Tom tossed the spoon he had been holding in the sink and hopped down from the counter, deciding not to acknowledge the dig.

 

“It’s warm in Albania this time of year, make sure you pack accordingly.” He said before he walked out of the room.

 

Hermione sighed. She honestly had nothing against Albania, in fact, she was hoping that maybe she would actually get to see a bit of it while she was there, but the thought that he was going after a magical artifact so he could turn it into a horcrux was severely off-putting.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Here is the start to their Albanian adventure - enjoy the smut, and please review! xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

The next morning, Hermione opened her eyes when she felt Tom getting out of bed.

“What timesit?” she asked, her voice still rough from sleep

“Five am. You should get ready, our portkey activates in an hour.” He said as he pulled on his pants and a white v-neck tee shirt as he spoke to her. Hermione couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting down to his stomach as he pulled the shirt down over it, and the mentally slapped herself with the reminder that she was supposed to still be mad at him for forcing her into this trip.

She sighed and shoved the blankets off of her, and swung her legs over the bed, her back to Tom, not noticing that he stilled his movements to watch her as she pulled her night shirt over her head and clasped the bra behind her back before pulling on her top. She stood, bending over to pull up her shorts when she realized she hadn’t heard any movement from him, and she turned around slowly to see that he had been watching her intently.

 

“Enjoying the show?” she asked sarcastically as she brushed past him and entered the bathroom, closing the bathroom door in his face.

He stood looking at the door, as his eyes slipped closed and his nostrils flared as he exhaled deeply in annoyance. How could she turn him on so completely one moment, only to make him want to throttle her in the next? It was maddening.

 

He grabbed the bag that she had packed the night before and shrunk it, shoving it in his pocket as he made his way down stairs. When she finally made her way down, he was sipping his coffee and talking quietly with Nagini in Parseltongue.

 

“She’s not coming with us, is she?” Hermione asked hoping he would say no. She had to put up with the awful thing on a daily basis, she really hoped she would be getting a break.

 

“No, she is staying here. She can take care of herself while we are away. She will guard the house.” Tom said and Hermione felt the first bit of relief since this whole trip had been brought up, and she actually smiled.

 

She drank her coffee and idly took the pages of the prophet from Tom as he scanned them. So far, there was no more news on whether proclamation 1682 would be repealed, but she didn’t expect to hear anything until after the next meeting of the Board of Governors, which was still several weeks away.

Tom looked at his pocket watch and grasped the portkey, a small keychain of boat, and beckoned her to step into his arms so that they could be transported. Hermione held her breath as she felt his arms close around her, and a moment later, she felt like she was being flung up into the sky. She had learned her lesson last time she traveled by portkey and firmly kept her eyes closed, keeping a strong grip on Tom. They landed much more gently than last time as well, feeling her feet touch down gently upon the ground. When she felt his arms drop away from her, she cracked open one eye and saw that they were standing in a heavily wooded area up high in the mountains. From where she stood, she could see the ocean. The scent of fir trees and salty air was a heady mix, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped as she took in the view.

 

“Albania’s not so terrible, now, is it.” Tom said snidely from somewhere behind her.

“I never said it was terrible, Tom, it’s _why_ we’re here that I’m not happy about.” She said quietly.

 

Once again, he chose not to comment, and instead turned away from her and headed inside their cabin. The cabin was small and quite secluded, which she imagined was exactly what he wanted. She sighed and followed him inside wanting to at least unpack since they would be staying there for the next two weeks.

 

He took the bag out of his pocket and removed the shrinking charm so that it grew back to its normal size, and he dropped it on the bed. The cabin was rustic; the bed was large, and its frame was made out of timbers, and there was a chest of drawers that appeared to be handmade. The bathroom was small, and only contained a shower, a toilet, and a small sink. The kitchen and living room were essentially one open room, with counters, a stove, and a sink along one wall with a fridge, and the opposite side of the room held a large stone fireplace, a sofa, and two armchairs. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

 

“What are we going to do about food?” Hermione asked and Tom turned to face her raising his eyebrow.

 

“We hunt” he said flatly and Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Hunt? Hunt what, exactly?” Hermione asked horrified. No one said anything about her having to kill innocent wildlife on this excursion.

 

“Deer, Elk, Rabbits…take your pick. There is supposed to be a lake nearby as well, I expect there should be fish in it.”

 

“Um…surely you don’t expect me to…”she couldn’t even finish her sentence, and instead just made an awkward hand gesture.

 

Tom had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at her.

 

“Hermione, I expect you to be useful in some way on this trip, surely the brightest witch of her age can manage to make sure we eat.” Tom said crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Hermione’s jaw dropped, “Tom, have you so quickly forgotten what happened when I attempted to make a roast? I’ll have this cabin burned to the ground…” She started shouting, her arms flailing as her anger built until he couldn’t take it anymore and he burst out laughing.

 

“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny! What part of I have no bloody clue how to hunt, not to mention… _slaughter_ …and innocent animal. Even cooking it is beyond my skill set.” Hermione said to which Tom only laughed harder.

 

“I was joking, Hermione.” He finally managed to say, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

 

“You’re an ass.” She said before storming back into the bedroom to start unpacking their clothes. He was still trying to stop laughing at her as he followed her into the bedroom.

“Merlin, you should have seen your face.” He was saying as he held his stomach and then finally took a deep breath and turned her to look at him.

 

“There is a market in town, and places to dine. I assure you, we’ll be fine.” He said smirking at her as she continued to glare at him.

 

“You’re still an ass.” She said turning away from him and opening the bag to start putting clothes in the dresser.

“Oh come on. I was just having a bit of fun. You need to lighten up.” He said as he watched her unpack their things.

 

“Says the man who’s making _horcruxes_.” Hermione snapped letting her anger take over.

 

Tom grabbed her roughly by the arm and jerked her towards him, “Don’t speak of things you do not understand.” He said dangerously against her ear as he held her against his chest, a tone of warning in his voice.

 

When she didn’t say anything, he let go of her and stepped away from her and left the room.

 

Hermione let out the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. She may have over-reacted over his joke, but honestly, that was not even what she was upset about. She was still extremely angry that he was still moving forward with his plan to create his horcruxes despite everything she had told him. What was worse, was that he was dragging her along with him forcing her to watch it happen.

 

After she finished unpacking, she stepped back out of the cabin and transfigured a rocking chair from a pine cone where she could sit and look out over the ocean. The smell in the air was nothing short of amazing, and reminded her of Christmas by the sea, even though it was still the middle of the summer. She could see boats moving by in the distance, and she was lost in thought when she heard Tom’s voice behind her.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it.”

 

She honestly was tired of fighting with him, so for now, she decided to let it go. Maybe when the time came she could still talk him out of it.

 

“It is. It reminds me of Christmas.” Hermione said not turning to look at him, instead focusing on the sun setting over the water.

 

“Christmas?” Tom asked in confusion

 

“Yes, it’s the scent of the fir trees; those are the kinds of trees we used to decorate in our house when I was a child at Christmas. I always think they smell like Christmas.” She said and then she felt Tom’s hand come to rest on her shoulder as she sat in the chair in front of him.

 

“I’m taking you to dinner tonight, would you like to change first?” Tom said softly and she turned and looked up at him with an unreadable expression.

 

“Yes, I suppose.” She stood and went to walk past him and he caught her arm pulling her back against him.

 

“I don’t wish to fight with you.” He said quietly and she felt him press something into her hand. She looked down, and her breath caught in her throat.

 

“Is this?” she asked holding up the small silver chain with the small pewter thimble dangling from it.

 

“Yes. It’s the one I bought for you.” He said looking at her with an unreadable expression.

 

She smiled and held it to her chest and then turned holding her hair out of the way so that he could fasten it around her neck for her.

 

“Thank you.” She whispered and then brushed her lips against his as he let out a shaky breath and she squeaked in surprise as she swept her off of her feet bridal style and carried her back into the cabin to their bed. Her tongue fought with his for dominance as they kissed deeply, her arms wrapping around his neck of their own accord. He set her down gently on the bed and crawled on top of her groaning when she captured his lips again; her fingers flying to the hem of his shirt as she pulled it over his head. Her hands smoothed over is chest and she enjoyed the way she heard his breath hitch when she ran her fingers over the hard planes of his stomach towards the button of his pants. She could see that he was already painfully hard, as he rolled his hips into hers sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. He pulled her shirt off over her head and traced his tongue along her collar bone as he pulled off her bra. He moved his hands lower and flicked the button of her shorts open and pushed them down over her hips along with her knickers. When he pulled back from her to his knees to undo his pants, she followed pulling herself to her knees in front of him capturing his lips while she opened his pants and pushed them down. She caught him off guard then when she pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him wanting to be in control for once. He groaned and practically panted when she grasped his cock and sunk down onto it letting out a soft moan as she felt herself being stretched. She pressed her palms flat against his chest as she rode him, looking down at him with hooded eyes as she took him deep into her over and over again as he grasped her hips setting the pace. He could feel that she was about to come, and he began to stroke his thumb over her clit.

“You’re so beautiful when you come…. _fuck_ …Hermione…”

 

She threw her head back and cried out as she came hard around him. She felt him stiffen beneath her as he pumped into her a few more times before coming inside of her with a growl. He pulled her down to lay beside him as they both struggled to get their breathing under control. Neither of them spoke, and he held her in his arms for a while until she finally turned to face him.

 

“So where are you taking me to dinner?” she asked running her fingers over his chest.

 

“It’s a surprise.” He said before kissing her forehead

 

As much as she had thought this trip would be nothing like a romantic getaway that they had told people it would be, she was surprised to find that so far, she had been wrong. She lifted the small thimble between her fingers and smiled. She knew Tom would never confess to having any sort of feelings for her, and honestly, she hadn’t believed him capable of it, but the chain that now sat around her neck said differently.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy this! More smut, so enjoy...and things are starting to happen! Please leave me a review! xo

 

**~~{0}~~**

 

It was hot. Not the comfortable dry heat kind of hot, but the gross, clothes sticking to your skin kind of hot. Hermione pushed a lock of her brown frizzy hair out of her face and grumbled to herself as she followed along behind her husband. Apparently, Helena Ravenclaw’s brilliant directions basically just told him to look for a tree in Albania. Hermione looked around with a grimace; there were _thousands_ of trees.

 

“Did she say if there was anything special about the tree?” Hermione asked as she grabbed hold of a root and pulled herself up the steep hill.

 

“She just said it was in a tree.” Tom said acidly as he turned to help her up.

 

“That narrows it down…” Hermione grumbled sarcastically, pulling out a water bottle and taking a sip before handing it to him.

“You didn’t have to come. I told you that you could have stayed back at the cabin.” He said narrowing his eyes at her, clearly annoyed by her constant need for commentary.

 

“As if I’m daft enough to let you out of my sight.” Hermione scoffed.

 

“Why _darling_ , don’t you trust me?” he said feigning hurt.

 

“Nope.” She said taking the water bottle back from him and tossing it back into her small black beaded bag. He smirked.

 

“We need to keep moving, we’re losing light.” Tom said flatly as he turned and began walking once more.

“Only ten-thousand more trees to examine.” Hermione said sarcastically under her breath and followed along behind him.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Two hours later, they came to a small clearing that Hermione begrudgingly had to admit, had a beautiful view. They were even higher up on the mountain now from where their cabin was, and she could see even further out to sea, and more villages nestled within the valleys below. Tom Sat on a large flat rock, and patted the spot beside him for her to take a seat. They were still no closer to finding the Diadem than they had been before, but they needed to eat to replenish their strength. Hermione dropped down beside him, her legs feeling like jelly from the many hours of hiking through the woods which, she would have thought she would have been used to by now, considering she had basically been camping for months on end in the woods before she ended up in 1947, but she was exhausted. She pulled her beaded bag off of her wrist, and used her wand to summon the food that she had packed for them. She handed him a sandwich, and then took a bite of her own.

 

“We could be walking around aimlessly. Are you sure this is even the right mountain?” Hermione asked chancing a glance at him.

 

“Yes, I’m sure this is right.” He said in annoyance, but didn’t elaborate.

“How do you know?” she asked not caring that her questions were annoying him.

 

“ _Because_.” He said snidely, clearly not wanting to share any information with her.

 

“Oh, of course. I should have known. It’s the right mountain… _because_. Makes total sense.” Hermione said biting back a smirk at the glare he was giving her. She never in a million years would have sassed Voldemort in her own time, but now that she was married to him, and had some small measure of control, she found it very satisfying.

 

“Hermione…” He said in warning.

She chuckled. She knew it was time to back off when he said her name like that, but just knowing that she was getting on his nerves was reward enough.

“Have you considered maybe using magic to find this elusive tree?” she asked as she squinted her eyes to avoid the sun’s glare.

“Of course I have. Its unplottable.” He said with a growl of frustration.

 

“So what, you’re plan is to simply walk the entirety of this forest and look at every tree to see if there is a magical Tiara hidden in it?” she said trying to make him see how ludicrous this whole thing was. He only shot her a glare from the corner of his eye.

 

“Merlin, it is!” she said massaging her temples.

“Like I said, no one is forcing you to be here.” He said flatly.

 

Hermione begged to differ on that one. She was pretty sure he had forced her to come on this trip with him, but that was a minor detail.

 

“She had to have told you _something_ , I mean, what _exactly_ did she say?” Hermione asked trying to solve the puzzle, though she knew it was the last thing she should be helping him do.

 

Tom sighed, “She said that she fled to the forest in Albania, to the highest mountain. She hid the diadem inside of a forked tree.” Tom said running his hand through his hair.

“Well there you go. A Forked tree. That should narrow it down somewhat.” Hermione said looking at him hopefully.

 

Tom gestured around them, and she noticed that the majority of the trees in this area were all forked.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Hermione grimaced. It was going to be a long two weeks.

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

After having spent twelve hours wandering around in the woods, Hermione was sore, and annoyed. She’d be damned if she was going to let him go off on his own, because if he found the diadem, which, she knew from her original timeline that he would, she didn’t want him to find some hapless muggle to murder so he could make a horcrux right then and there. Another thought struck her then, that made the blood freeze in her veins…if he found the diadem, would he try to kill her to make his horcrux? In her original timeline he hadn’t, because she hadn’t been there…but now? She decided she needed an insurance policy.

 

“Tom?” She asked, giving him an innocent smile

 

“What?” he asked absently not bothering to look up from the map he was studying

 

“I’d like to go into town for a bit. I could pick up a few things at the market for dinner?” she asked, hoping he would be too immersed in his research to say no.

 

“Fine. Oh, if they have ice cream, pick some up, will you?” he said, still not bothering to look at her.

 

Her lips twitched in amusement. Who would’ve thought Voldemort loved ice cream.

 

“Yes, okay.” She said heading into the bedroom to change her clothes.

 

She apparated to the same spot that Tom had taken her to the previous night, since it was out of view from any muggles who happened to be nearby. She stepped out from behind the building, stowing her wand in her pocket, and walked casually down the main street. A few minutes later, she found exactly what she was looking for; a muggle tourist boutique. The shop sold all manner of items, including tee shirts, and key chains with the Albanian flag, and she passed by all of that until she found what she was looking for; postcards. She found one that appeared to be a photo of one of the nearby beaches, and it said, “ _Greetings from Saranda_ ”. She took the postcard and purchased it from the man at the counter, and thanked him before she left. She continued walking down the main street, and found a small coffee shop where she stopped to fill out the postcard:

 

_Albus,_

_It truly is beautiful here in Saranda, Albania. I never would have thought that a place like this could be so magical; you really should visit, if the occasion ever arises.  If I am not back in two weeks, I am sure you can easily see why._

_~Hermione_

 

She stuffed the postcard into her pocket and then headed to the market to pick up something they could eat for dinner. She settled on some stuffed grape leaves, a loaf of freshly baked bread, a bottle of red wine, and of course, chocolate ice cream for Tom. She carried the bag down the main street, back to the small alley she had used to apparate to, and as soon as she was behind the cover of the buildings, she shrunk the bag and placed it in her beaded handbag, and then used a summoning spell to call an owl to her. Within a few moments, a tawny owl swooped down towards her, and she quickly secured the postcard to its leg. She watched as it flew off, and felt a bit of relief. Once Professor Dumbledore received that postcard, he would know exactly where they were, and if she wasn’t back within two weeks as planned, he would know Tom had done something to her. She took a deep breath and apparated back to the cabin.

 

~~{0}~~

 

She swept into the cabin, and Tom was still sitting in the chair studying the map, exactly as she had left him.

 

“Find anything?” she asked mildly curious as she summoned the bag of groceries from her black beaded bag and set them on the counter.

Tom sighed, “Not much, unfortunately.” He said sitting back as he rubbed his eyes.

“Well, why don’t you take a break? I brought food.” She said setting out a few plates and pouring them both a glass of wine.

She almost jumped when she felt his arms slide around her waist as she set the wine bottle down on the counter, feeling his lips on the back of her neck. She sighed contentedly, and it turned into a moan when she felt his hardness pressed against her backside. She heard him murmur against her shoulder, “Dinner can wait.” As he slid his hands over her hips and grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She turned in his arms and kissed him hungrily, lifting her onto the counter and stepping between her legs. Her tongue explored his mouth as his hands roamed up her back, releasing her bra. She pulled off his shirt and moaned appreciatively as her hands explored his toned chest. She noticed he hadn’t shaved that morning, and she could feel a day’s growth of stubble on his jaw, that small detail making him even more attractive to her in that moment, because it was so _human_. He groaned as she slipped her hand down between them, and under the waistband of his pants, grasping his cock and stroking it as she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. He growled then, and lifted her off the counter, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed. He hovered over her, never breaking the kiss as he opened the button of her shorts, and pushed them, along with her kickers, down over her hips. He kissed his way down her stomach, and ran his tongue along her slit as he reached the apex of her thighs, smirking as she arched her back up off the bed. His tongue delved into her, and she cried out, clutching the sheets as he flicked his tongue over her sensitive flesh over and over again. Just as she was about to come, he moved to his knees, looking down at her with hooded eyes, as she began to touch herself wantonly. He held her lustful gaze as his hand brushed over his cock though the denim of the jeans he was wearing, and she bit her lip as she watched him push his pants down over his hips. He moved over her again, wrapping her legs around his waist and thrust into her in one swift stroke. He began pounding into her, taking her hard and fast as she let out a series of breathy moans that sounded very much like, ‘ _Oh God, Yes, harder, please, don’t ever stop_ ’. She let out a strangled sob as she came, shuddering beneath him, digging her nails into his biceps as he continued to fuck her relentlessly until he found his release a few moments later. He was still breathing heavily as he rolled onto his side next to her, closing his eyes to bask in post-orgasmic bliss. She turned towards him, and kissed his jaw, smirking at him when he cracked an eye open to look at her.

“Lucky for you, the market had chocolate ice cream.”

 

He smiled, and wondered to himself if this was what happiness felt like.

 

~~{0}~~

 

The next week and a half passed quickly, with a lot of time spent looking at trees in the woods. Finally, three days before they were due to head home, Tom found a spell that would reveal any areas where magic was present on the map. He pulled her from her comfortable rocking chair out front, and apparated with her without a word.

 

“Tom, what the hell?” she asked wondering why he had suddenly grabbed her and apparated away with her. When she looked around, and saw a shimmer of magic twisting around a very distinctly forked tree, she knew. He had finally found the diadem. She watched as he was easily able to break the complex wards around the tree, and a few moments later, he pulled out a small tiara that held a light blue stone in its center. Her stomach turned when she thought about how he would desecrate such a priceless magical artifact. Before she could stop herself, she turned and vomited.

 

A look of disgust crossed his face as he shrunk the diadem and put it in his pocket before grabbing her arm roughly and apparating with her back to the cabin.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she vomited again, right on Tom’s shoes.

He quickly vanished it with his wand, making a mental note to get a new pair of shoes, as he picked her up and carried her into the cabin.

 

“Hermione? Are you ill” he asked as she curled herself into a ball on the bed.

“It looks that way. I feel awful.” She said clutching the pillow.

 

He went into the kitchen and got her a cup of tea and then came back in the bedroom with it and he helped her to sit up against the headboard of the bed

“Here, try sipping this.” He said handing her the teacup.

 

“I’m sorry about your shoes…and before in the woods.” She said blushing.

 

“Yes, well, I suppose it could have been worse.” He said giving her a small smile.

 

She lifted her eyebrow, “How could it be worse?” she asked taking a sip of her tea, grateful for the chance to get rid of the sour taste in her mouth.

 

“Well, let’s just say that as Head Boy, I’ve had to deal with quite a lot of unpleasant situations at Hogwart’s.” he said not going into detail.

 

“Oh? Do tell…” Hermione chuckled feeling somewhat better.

 

“I don’t even want to think about it…but needless to say, I was once given the job of dealing with a first year who shit his pants in class.” She said wrinkling his nose in disgust.

Hermione laughed, “Oh god, you’re right, it could have been worse.” She said, still shaking with laughter.

 

“Why don’t you try and get some sleep. Now that we have what we came for, we can enjoy the last few days here.” He said dropping a kiss on her forehead.

 

She closed her eyes, not wanting to be reminded of the diadem. She wished he had never found it.

 

~~{0}~~

 

The next morning, Hermione woke up feeling nauseous, and made it to the toilet just in time. Tom woke to the sounds of her retching, and pulled the pillow over his head. When she was finally finished, she rinsed her mouth and brushed her teeth, and went back to lie in bed.

 

“You’re still sick?” he mumbled from beneath his pillow when he felt her get back into the bed.

 

“I…” she trailed off when it hit her that she couldn’t remember the last time she had her period.

 

_Fuck. No no no no no!_

 

“Oh shit.” She said closing her eyes, and reached over to her grab her wand.

 

“What? What does ‘Oh shit’ mean?” he asked in alarm, watching as she muttered an incantation and waved her wand over her stomach. The tip of her wand glowed blue.

“What does it mean?” he asked, his voice beginning to rise, since she hadn’t seen fit to answer him.

 

“It means we’re having a baby. I’m pregnant, Tom.” She said and watched as all the blood drained from his face.

 

She never in a million years would have thought she would ever see Voldemort terrified, but here it was. He looked as if he was about to faint.

 

“Wait…what?” he asked again, wanting to make sure he heard her correctly.

 

“Pregnant, you know, knocked up…bun in the oven…” she said sarcastically.

 

“How…” he trailed off in somewhat of a daze.

 

“Well, I hardly think I need to explain it. We’ve been fucking like bunnies, Tom.” She said getting annoyed.

 

“Well weren’t you on the potion?” he asked accusingly.

 

“Don’t you _dare_ put this all on me! I didn’t see you taking a time out to ask me that beforehand.” She said acidly.

 

She watched as he stood up, glaring at her furiously. She could only imagine that he was thinking about all his carefully laid plans for becoming a dark lord going up in flames.

 

He was pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed, and she watched him nervously, not daring to say anything else. Suddenly he stopped and looked up at her.

 

“We have to get rid of it.” He said flatly, without even a hint of emotion in his voice.

 

Hermione looked at him horrified, although in retrospect, knowing who he was, she shouldn’t have been surprised, “I’ll do no such thing!” she shot back, moving her hands protectively over her stomach. She hadn’t planned this, but it happened, and she would take responsibility.

 

“Besides, the Ministry would have been alerted at the point of conception as part of our binding. The whole point of that stupid law was to bring magical children into the world, so I’m quite sure that not only are we obligated to keep this baby, but we’re also quite stuck with each other now. Our marriage won’t be dissolved if we have a child.” Hermione said feeling just as lost as he was.

 

He growled in frustration and drew his wand. Hermione’s eyes widened, sure that he was about to kill her, when he blew the bedside table next to her to smithereens before storming out of the cabin.

 

 _Well, that went well._ She thought dismally.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the continued reviews! I Love hearing all of your speculation on what is going to happen! I think with this story, unlike most of my stories, I actually do know how this one will end...though, we'll see if Tom and Hermione cooperate. They may rebel, and do what they want in the end, so we'll see...I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I gave some of it in Tom's POV, and some in Hermione's, just to give a little more insight into their thoughts.

**~~{Tom’s POV}~~**

 

 

“It means we’re having a baby. I’m pregnant, Tom.”

 

The words swirled around his brain as he stared at Hermione in shock.

 

“Wait…what?” he asked, thinking he had to have misheard her.

 

“Pregnant, you know, knocked up…bun in the oven…” she said sarcastically.

 

“How?” he asked dumbly, of course he knew how babies were made, it was more of a _how could this happen to me_ kind of how.

 

“Well, I hardly think I need to explain it. We’ve been fucking like bunnies, Tom.” She said getting annoyed.

 

He was starting to get angry now, “Well weren’t you on the potion?” he asked. Most witches started taking it as soon as they were thinking of becoming sexually active. He had assumed she was no different.

 

“Don’t you _dare_ put this all on me! I didn’t see you taking a time out to ask me that beforehand.” She said acidly.

 

He stood up, glaring at her furiously. Everything he had been working so hard for was coming apart at the seams. He had been able to adapt when the Ministry had forced this marriage on him, finding a way he could use it _and her_ to his advantage, but _this_ …this was not supposed to happen. He had vowed long ago that he would never bring a child into the world that he was planning to burn to the ground.  He was pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed, and she watched him nervously, wisely keeping her mouth shut.

 

He finally seemed to come to a decision, “We have to get rid of it.”

 

There was no affection for this child, if it could even be called such at this early stage, it was a _problem_. One that he wanted to swiftly rid himself of so that he could focus on what was important; bringing the Ministry to its knees.

 

Hermione looked at him with a horrified expression, and wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach. “I’ll do no such thing!” she shot back, “Besides, the Ministry would have been alerted at the point of conception as part of our binding. The whole point of that stupid law was to bring magical children into the world, so I’m quite sure that not only are we obligated to keep this baby, but we’re also quite stuck with each other now. Our marriage won’t be dissolved if we have a child.” Hermione said hopelessly.

 

So there it was. How had his life devolved into this? Married to a mudblood, and fathering a child who was a quarter-blood at best. It was a disgrace to his ancestry of the highest order. As he looked at her, he felt the strong pulse of magic whispering in his ear. It would be so easy… _just point your wand at her, and end her life_.

 

He growled in frustration and drew his wand. He watched as Hermione’s eyes widened in fear, and instead of the curse he so badly wanted to fall from his lips, his wand shifted towards the bedside table and smashed with a non-verbal _reducto_.  

 

He stormed from the cabin then, still furious, and now more than a little confused. Why had he not been able to cast the killing curse? He clearly wanted to do it, but found that he was physically unable. Then the answer came to him; the marriage vows. He had promised to love, honor, and protect her until his last dying breath. So long as they were wed, he would not be able to hurt her.

 

Damn. As long as the child was in her womb, he would not be able to destroy it either.

 

He sunk into the rocking chair that Hermione frequently used in the front of the cabin, and he seethed. Everything was falling apart. His followers would certainly desert him if they found out, unless he could find some way of spinning it to make it seem as if it was planned, and that the child would serve a greater purpose. He still had time, since it would be a few months before she would begin to show; maybe he could come up with a convincing lie by then. If only he had been more careful, he mused. There was something inexplicably attractive about her though, something that made him lose control and give in to his desire. Even now, as the desire to kill her warred within him, he wanted her.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed away his desire for her; it was clouding his mind, causing him to make too many mistakes. What was it about this girl that made him so weak? The Dark Lord was not weak; there was no room for weakness. He needed to stay away from her, married or not.

When the sun was beginning to set that evening, he finally returned to the cabin. She stood, looking at him expectantly with wide eyes as he walked in, and he saw a look of disappointment flash across her face as he glanced away from her and swept into the bedroom. She stepped in cautiously behind him, watching him as he grabbed their clothing and shoved them into their travel bag.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked weakly from behind him.

 

“We’re leaving.” He said, not wanting to speak to her any more than was necessary. He had the diadem that he came for, now he wanted simply to avoid her, which would be so much easier to do back home that it was in this tiny cabin.

 

“But the portkey isn’t set to activate for another two days.” She said in confusion.

 

He turned to her then, giving her a look of loathing that made her shrink back from him, “Fine, you stay. I’m leaving.” He said tossing the portkey on the bed with a snarl, and disapparated before her eyes.

 

**~~{Hermione’s POV}~~**

 

She watched as he stormed from the room after destroying the bedside table, and she let him go. She knew the news had come as a shock, merlin knows she was just as shocked as he was. None of this was supposed to happen to her; she was Hermione Jean Granger, war hero, who fought alongside Harry Potter, taking down Death Eaters like it was nothing. She was supposed to be the brightest witch of her age, and after Voldemort was defeated, she was supposed to be able to have the career of her choice. She was _not_ supposed to end up stuck in the past, barefoot and pregnant, married to the Dark Lord. That was not part of the plan. She asked herself over and over again how her life had come to this.

 

She wished she had never laid her eyes on that stupid time-turner. If she hadn’t been so greedy, wanting to take all those extra classes, she wouldn’t have ever had it. If she had only returned it after her third year, she would never have found herself in the situation she was in now.

Pregnant. She was pregnant. She was having a baby; and not just any baby, _Lord Voldemort’s_ baby.

 

She curled herself in a ball on the bed, and couldn’t stop the flow of tears as they fell. She was a traitor of the highest order now. Married to the man who killed her best friend’s parents, and now she was carrying his child. Even if she found a way home, Tom would still become Voldemort. The worst of it though, was that she was now bound by her marriage vows to _protect_ him. She was carrying inside of her, the next heir of Slytherin that would be able to open the chamber of secrets and command the basilisk. If Voldemort was destroyed without her assistance, she had already assured that there could be a new Dark Lord ready and willing to take his place.

 

She placed a hand on her stomach and took a calming breath. This child may be the child of darkness, but it was also half light. She tried to calm her thoughts, realizing that she had the power to teach the child the most important thing that his father had never learned to do; _to love_.

 

It was several hours later, when she heard the cabin door open, she must have fallen asleep. She rubbed her eyes and stood, watching as Tom entered the cabin, and a small sliver of hope flared in her chest that maybe he was starting to accept it. That hope was dashed when he looked away from her and swept past her into the bedroom. She cautiously followed him in, wanting him to say something, anything. Instead, she watched as he began to start roughly shoving their clothes back into their travel bag.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked quietly, looking from the bag to his face.

 

“We’re leaving.” He said coldly, not meeting her eyes.

 

“But the portkey isn’t set to activate for another two days.” She said in confusion

 

The look he gave her then when he finally looked up made the blood freeze in her veins.

 

“Fine, you stay. I’m leaving.” He said tossing the portkey on the bed with a snarl, and disapparated before her eyes.

 

Hermione sunk to her knees on the floor. He’d just left her there. The look he had given her just before he left was one of pure hatred.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Two days later, Hermione returned to their home using the portkey, hoping that giving him that time and space would allow him to come to terms with everything. He wasn’t there when she arrived, which as disappointed as she was about it, she was also slightly relieved. She didn’t know what to say to him.

 

She went up to their bedroom, only to find the door warded. _What the hell?_

 

She walked through the manor, and was shocked when she opened the door to one of the furthest guest rooms to find all of her belongings tossed crudely in boxes and shoved into the room. She was angry, but was inwardly relieved that he hadn’t seen fit to burn her things. It was all his fault anyway. She had initially approached him with a request to try and find a way out of the marriage law. It was him who manipulated her into marrying him, and it was him who insisted that she live there with him. She scoffed when she thought about how he was probably regretting that particular decision now. _Serves him right_ , she thought bitterly.

 

She pulled her wand from her pocket and used magic to quickly put all of her things away. She saw the layer of dust on the bed, and pulled the blankets and sheets off, and wandered down into the cellar to see if there was a washer and dryer, since it was previously a muggle residence. If not, she could always cast a scourgify, but washing them the muggle way would help keep her mind off of her predicament in some small way. To her surprise, there was a washer and dryer, as well as an almost full bottle of laundry detergent. Despite never learning to cook, her mother had made sure that Hermione knew how to use a washing machine from a young age. She placed the blankets, pillowcases and sheets into the wash, along with her clothes from their trip, and started it. She’d be damned if she was going to wash his clothes. In his haste to get away, he had left all of his clothes behind. She curled her lips up in a smirk and dumped them out on the dirty cellar floor. Maybe Nagini would leave a little present in them. She cringed when she thought of the snake that was loose in the house and looked around quickly. She heard a hiss behind her, and spun around to face the aforementioned snake. To her shock, Nagini slithered up to her slowly, and Hermione stood frozen, not daring to move. She couldn’t speak Parseltongue, but she watched in fascinated horror as the snake began to slither up her leg. She let out a shuddering breath as the snake pressed her head against Hermione’s stomach, its black tongue flicking out. After a few moments, Nagini released her and slithered away.

 

What the hell was _that_?

 

Hermione released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, and was grateful that the snake chose not to attack. She made her way back up to the kitchen, and was sipping a cup of tea when Tom walked in, and froze. She didn’t speak, partially because she didn’t want to start another fight, and partially because she wanted him to apologize. She knew an apology was unlikely when she had arrived at their house to find that she had essentially been kicked out of their bedroom.

 

She watched as he poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed the Daily Prophet off of the kitchen island and began to leave the room without acknowledging her.

 

“So is this what we’re going to do now? Ignore each other?” She spoke up before he could walk out. He stopped in the doorway with his back still to her.

 

“How dare you speak to me, _Mudblood_. If you value your pathetic excuse for a life, I advise you to stay out of my way.” He said without turning around to face her.

 

Hermione’s mouth fell open in shock. It wasn’t so much that she was shocked that he could be capable of saying something like that, but shocked that he truly believe she would let him get away with it. He clearly had no idea who he was dealing with.

 

Before he could round the corner, her wand was in her hand and she tried to curse him. The curse was inexplicably deflected. _What the hell?_

 

He turned sharply to face her narrowing his eyes when he heard her curse hit the wall. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting her to curse him, and the deflection was not caused by a shielding charm…

 

“Did you just try to curse me with my back turned?” he asked venomously drawing his wand.

 

 

“As a matter of fact, I did, you foul, loathsome, git!” she shot back at him, smirking at him in challenge. If what she suspected was true, there was only one way to find out, “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

 

He clenched his jaw, and his wand shook violently in his hand as he tried desperately to keep it aimed at her. He finally managed to fire off a curse, and seethed as it deflected from its path, breaking the window nearby.

 

He growled.

 

“Not finding this marriage so convenient now, are you?” she smirked and crossed her arms over her chest in triumph. So long as they remained married, he couldn’t harm her, in fact, he was obligated to protect her, just as she was for him.

 

“Hermione…” He ground out in frustration.

 

“Oh? What happened to _mudblood_?” Hermione said acidly as she rounded on him. Finding out that Voldemort could not physically harm her was like finding kryptonite.

 

“You knew, didn’t you? Back at the cabin…that’s why you left. You tried to kill me, and you couldn’t.” she said knowingly, blocking his path so he couldn’t walk away from her.

 

“I’m only going to say this once…Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Or what? You’ll curse me? It’s time to grow up, Tom. Regardless of what you or I planned, things have changed, and there is _fuck all_ we can do about it. Either man up, or stay the hell out of my way.” She said angrily as she stepped around him, leaving him staring after her.

 

She made it back to her room and flopped back down on the bare mattress. She hadn’t realized she was muttering aloud to herself angrily until she was shaken from her angry tirade by a soft hissing. Not again.

 

“Nagini…what are you…?” she began to say, realizing that Nagini wouldn’t know what she was saying. She watched as once again, the large snake slithered onto the bed, and draped herself over Hermione’s stomach. To say she was terrified was an understatement. She didn’t dare move, her eyes wide watching the snake’s every movement, and her breath coming out in shallow pants.

 

Suddenly, the door banged open, and Tom swept in, clearly having more to say, when he froze at the scene before him. Nagini was coiled protectively on Hermione’s stomach. His eyes flicked from the terror filled face of Hermione, to Nagini, who was calmly flicking her tongue out.

 

Tom began to hiss in Parseltongue, and for a moment, Hermione was afraid that he was instructing the snake to kill her. Even if he couldn’t, Nagini was not bound by any such vow. The snake began to hiss back at him, and to her surprise, she even lunged towards him baring her fangs. Tom’s eyes widened, and he gasped in shock at the clear warning the snake had given.

Hermione watched nervously as the snake continued to keep its gaze trained on Tom, and she whispered to him as quietly as she could, not wanting to startle the snake into biting her.

 

“What did she say?”

 

Tom swallowed. He looked at Hermione, and flicked his eyes to Nagini before he looked back up at her.

 

“She knows you’re carrying my child. She’s protecting you. _From me_.” He said in disbelief.

 

Hermione’s gaze shifted back to the large snake on her stomach, she felt a surge of appreciation that she never in a million years would have thought she would ever feel. She was going to buy the largest bag of Mouse popsicles she could find for Nagini after this.

 

Tentatively, Hermione lifted her hand slowly, and gently, and began to soothe the riled reptile. Within a few moments, her posture seemed to relax, and she settled her large head on Hermione’s stomach once more.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next installment! I hope you all enjoy, and be warned, there is smut…you know the drill! Please review! xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione returned to Hogwarts that following Monday as expected, terrified of what Professor Dumbledore would say to her, since she was sure that even if she had no intention of telling anyone she was pregnant, that he would somehow _just know_ , since he was practically omniscient. When she stepped into his office that morning, her hands were trembling, and she tried desperately to avoid his gaze.

 

“Mrs. Riddle, I had assumed you would return from your trip well rested. Forgive me for saying so, but you look unwell.” He said looking at her critically over his half-moon spectacles.

 

“Oh…well, I have been feeling a bit under the weather the past few days, just a bit of a stomach bug, really.” She said waving her hand dismissively, and she bit her lip and looked away from him as she shuffled through the stack of parchment he had left for her to grade.

 

“I see. You may wish to visit Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing then, I’m sure she has a potion that will do just the trick.” Dumbledore said giving her a giving her a tight smile. Hermione nodded and turned to leave his office when he called out to her, halting her in her tracks.

 

“Oh and Mrs. Riddle? I believe congratulations are in order.”

 

Hermione closed her eyes and released the breath that she had been holding before she could control her voice enough to speak.

 

“I…Thank you, sir.” She said, and then left his office as quickly as she could for the solitude of her own to get her bearings before classes began.

 

She rubbed her hands over her face and berated herself for thinking she could hide something like that from Professor Dumbledore who was a master legillimens. She must’ve held his gaze for a millisecond too long, allowing him to see her thoughts, since it was unlikely that he had x-ray vision.

 

Later that day, as class broke for lunch, she made her way over to Professor Dumbledore’s desk once all of the students had cleared out of the classroom, and cleared her throat to get his attention.

 

He looked up from the parchment he was making some notes on and looked at her expectantly.

 

“Mrs. Riddle?”

 

“Hermione, please. As you said, we are colleagues, Professor… _Albus._ ” She corrected smiling, “I wanted to apologize for my abrupt exit this morning, I was…unprepared to discuss my current state as I am still coming to terms with it myself.” She said honestly.

 

Professor Dumbledore sighed and offered her a seat across from him.

 

“It is I who must apologize Hermione, it was not my intention to invade your privacy, but after receiving your postcard, I was concerned for your safety; I was uncertain if you would be able to ask for help, even if you required it.” The professor spoke softly, looking down at his folded hands on the desk. It was an uncomfortable conversation to be having for sure, but knowing who her husband was, he was not willing to leave anything to chance.

 

“I understand, and I’m not angry. I wish I could say that this is happy news, but we both know that would be a lie. The truth is, I am absolutely terrified, and I have no idea what to do.” She said choking back a sob as the tears threatened to come. She really did not want to cry in front of him, but this was Professor Dumbledore; he was _safe_.

 

“And how is your husband taking this news? That is, assuming that you’ve told him?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

 

“Not well. This wasn’t part of his plan, you see.” Hermione sighed wiping a stray tear from her eye, “He’s blaming me, of course.”

 

The professor nodded, a small smile coming to his lips, “Then all is not lost.” He said cryptically.

 

“Pardon?” Hermione asked, looking at him in confusion.

 

“You see, this child, however unexpected, is upsetting to your husband because its very existence is a threat to his plans. From where I am sitting, anything that has the ability to stop Tom Riddle from achieving what it is that he has been working towards is a blessing.” The professor said reaching out to squeeze one of her hands.

 

Hermione sniffed and gave him a small smile, “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

 

“Chin up, Mrs. Riddle, I expect that with time, even _he_ may come around.” Professor Dumbledore said, and she nodded, seeing it as he cue to head to lunch.

 

“Thank you, Professor, for everything.” She said before she stepped out of the classroom, deciding to head down to the kitchens for a bite to eat rather than braving the Great Hall. She felt a bit lighter after having confided in him about her pregnancy, and she vowed that from that point forward she would do her best to remain positive, even if her husband was anything but.

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

The next several weeks passed much the same way they had since she returned from Albania; wherever Hermione went in the house, Nagini was not far behind. When she sat on the couch in the living room to read, Nagini coiled herself in Hermione’s lap. When she slept, still in the furthest guest room, Nagini would rest at the foot of her bed. As unnerving and honestly downright terrifying as it had been in the beginning, Hermione had grown accustomed to the snake’s constant presence. Surprisingly, the warm weight of Nagini’s body as it lay in her lap, and her smooth scaly skin had actually become soothing. It was in these more recent days, that Hermione had begun to wish that she could communicate with the snake.

 

Hermione sat on the sofa, with a book in her hand, trying in vain to concentrate on the words printed within it’s pages, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t focus. She set the book down beside her and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

  
“Why can’t I focus?” she asked herself in frustration, when Nagini lifted her head and blinked at her

 

“Missstressss is misssing Masssster.” Nagini hissed to her quietly.

 

Hermione sighed, absent mindedly stoking Nagini, “I suppose I do miss him, I just…” she trailed off as her eyes widened

 

“Nagini…can you understand me?” Hermione asked, staring at the large snake in her lap.

 

“Yessss Mistressss.” Nagini answered nodding her large head.

 

Hermione barked out a laugh, looking around in excitement for Tom, when she remembered he was still ignoring her.

 

“How?” she asked the snake, hoping she wasn’t going crazy, and this was all her imagination.

 

“The child that growsssss insssside you…Assss it developssss, itsss abilitiesssss extend to you.” Nagini hissed.

 

Hermione hadn’t known that her child’s abilities would allow her to speak and understand Parseltongue while she carried it, but then again, there was virtually no books titled, ‘ _What to expect when you’re expecting a Parselmouth’_.

 

“Nagini, I’m sorry for everything that happened before; with the mongoose. For what it’s worth, I really appreciate what you’ve done for me.” She said giving the snake a small smile.

 

“It issss for the child, but I have grown usssssed to you.” Nagini said, and Hermione thought if it was possible for a snake to smirk, she thought that’s exactly what Nagini would have been doing.

 

“Well, I’m sure the mouse popsicles may have had a little something to do with it.” Hermione said smirking at the snake as she rubbed her finger under Nagini’s jaw.

 

It was at this moment that Tom walked in, and promptly dropped the stack of books he was carrying, when he heard the distinct hissing that was coming from Hermione before she chuckled at the snake. Hermione and Nagini both turned their heads to look at Tom when they heard the loud bang.

 

“Problem?” Hermione asked snidely as her eyes flicked down to the pile of books scattered across the floor.

 

“Since when do you speak Parseltongue?” Tom asked, his eyes narrowing at her in suspicion.

 

“Since now, apparently.” Hermione sniffed, not feeling the need to explain it to him. He had mostly spent the last few weeks ignoring her completely, and acting like an utter prick.

 

“Explain.” He said in a commanding tone, which was the last straw for Hermione.

 

Hermione gently nudged Nagini off of her lap so she could stand to face him, and she stepped in front of him with her eyes narrowed, and her hands on her hips

 

“Who am I, Tom?” Hermione asked sharply, drawing herself up as tall as she could in front of him, even though he was still quite a bit taller than she was.

  
He looked confused for a moment, before he said in a warning tone, “Hermione…”

 

“Wrong answer. I’m your _wife_. The mother of _your_ child. I’m not your slave, nor your follower, and I certainly don’t take orders from _you_.” She sneered, daring him to argue.

 

His jaw clenched, obviously not pleased with her tone, but she didn’t care. He needed to get it through his head; they were unfortunately stuck with each other.

 

He finally blew out a breath that he had been holding, most likely in an effort to not throttle her, which he knew he couldn’t actually do, even if he desperately wanted to.

 

“Yes, your are my wife, but _not by choice_.” He glared at her.

 

Hermione snorted, “Oh please, Tom, the Ministry may have matched us, but the moment you saw those black panties in my flat, you had already made up your mind; don’t even try to deny it.”

 

Against his will, his eyes darkened at the mention of her black knickers, and he felt his cock twitch.

 

“Well, I’m willing to bet that you left them out on purpose for me to find!” he shouted taking a step towards her.

 

Hermione’s mouth gaped open at the accusation, “As if! You’re the one took advantage of me when I was drunk!” she shouted back, taking a step towards him and poked him forcefully in the chest with her finger.

 

He grabbed her wrist roughly and pulled her against him and she inhaled sharply when she felt his hardness pressing into her.

 

“If memory serves, it was you who pounced on me that night.” He said as he tangled his hand in her hair roughly and tilted her head back, forcing her to look up at him.

 

“And if _my_ memory serves, _you liked it_.” She said just before his lips crashed into hers, and she moaned into his mouth. Her arms slipped around his neck, and she squeaked in surprise when he lifted her off the floor, wrapping her legs around his waist. He carried her up the stairs to his bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot. He crossed the room in three quick strides and tossed her onto the bed before climbing on top of her, capturing her lips once more. He rolled his hips into her causing her to buck against him with need. He groaned as her fingers found their way to his belt, opening it quickly and pulling it off with a sharp tug. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth as her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his pants to grasp his cock, and he growled, thrusting into her hand. Her skirt was bunched around her waist; the only thing separating them was his trousers and her thin lace knickers that were already soaked through. He grasped the flimsy lace of her knickers and she gasped into his mouth as he tore them off.

 

“Tom! Those were expensive!” she chuckled as he dragged his teeth over her throat.

  
“I’ll buy you another pair…” he mumbled against her skin, past caring about the state of he knickers. She pushed his pants down over his hips, eager to free his cock, and she cried out as he sunk into her with a groan, arching her body up off the bed to meet his thrusts. His mouth broke away from hers once again to lick and suck on her neck, biting down on her shoulder as he felt her pussy tighten around him as her first orgasm ripped though her, causing her to shudder against him as he continued pumping into her. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she bit her lip when she heard him whisper in her ear.

 

“Needed this…Fuck…You feel so good…So tight…So _Mine_ …”

 

She let out a breathy moan and slipped her fingers down to where they were joined and started rubbing her clit as he began to hit a spot deep inside of her that felt incredible, yet at the same time was making her feel like she had to urinate.

 

“Tom…”

 

“Fuck Hermione…come for me…”

 

Hermione felt the orgasm overtake her, causing her to cry out, in both pleasure and mortification when she felt warm liquid gushing out of her uncontrollably all over Tom.

 

“Oh God…” she gasped, and her then her eyes widened in surprise when she heard him growl and pick up his pace, thrusting into her even harder than before, until he finally came inside of her with a grunt.

 

Her hands flew to her face, horrified at the notion that she had peed on him while they were having sex.

 

“I’m so sorry…” she said from beneath her hands, not daring to look at him.

 

He laughed at her embarrassment and pried her hands from her face so that she had no choice but to look at him, and he smiled when he saw that her face was as red as a cherry.

 

“Why are you sorry? That was the single hottest thing I have ever seen.” He said before he leaned in to kiss her neck.

  
Hermione gaped at him, “Tom, I peed on you!” she said completely scandalized.

 

He laughed hard at that before he finally looked back down at her, “No you didn’t, you had a really intense orgasm. Trust me, I’d be very happy if you did that more often.”

 

Hermione didn’t know what to think, and was still leaning towards embarrassment, though she had to admit, it had felt _bloody amazing_. She watched as Tom grabbed his wand off the nightstand and cleaned them both and the bed up before he settled on his side next to her, looking down at her.

 

“Now, care to tell me how you are suddenly able to speak and understand Parseltongue?”

 

Hermione scowled at him, of course he would go right back to questioning her.

 

“Apparently, the baby is a Parselmouth, and according to Nagini, The baby’s abilities extend to me while it grows inside of me.” Hermione said looking up at him to gauge his reaction. It was the first time in weeks that the topic had been broached since they had returned from Albania.

 

He looked deep in thought, and ran his thumb along his bottom lip, which was a habit she had noticed he often did when he was trying to work something out.

 

“Huh…interesting. I hadn’t known that was possible.”

 

“Apparently that’s not the only side effect.” Hermione said pointedly and grimaced as she glanced down towards her crotch.

 

Tom chuckled, picking up on her meaning and leaned back down to her capturing her lips again before murmured in her ear, “Yes, but it is one that I’ll be happy to exploit over and over again.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! So sorry for the delay on getting this updated, I was on vacation last week with my family (and let me tell you, two year old twins are no joke!) Anyway, I am also in the process of updating ALL my active stories (Accidents, Beauty and the Beast, Closer, and Elixir) through out the week now that I am back into the swing of things. I wanted to thank you all so much for the new follows and favorites, as well as the reviews! You guys Rock! There is a little bit of smut, and some humor in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy xo ~Sharkdiver

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione awoke the next morning with a smile on her face. Her husband, despite his faults, of which there were _many_ , had finally pulled his head out of his rear end. She had to stifle a laugh at the memory of the night before when she had thought that she had peed on him while they were having sex. Seeing how much he had enjoyed it, she decided not to be embarrassed about it, and maybe even enjoy it next time it happened.

Tom slept beside her, with his arm draped over her possessively, even in his sleep. Despite his earlier rule, Nagini was also now allowed to sleep curled up at the foot of the bed.

 

She turned her face towards him when he sighed and she felt him nuzzling his face into her neck.

“Good Morning” she said smirking at the sleepy look on his face.

 

“What timesit?” he mumbled into her neck

Hermione chuckled, “It’s still early, but I couldn’t sleep” she said turning her face so that she could kiss his shoulder.

 

“how early is ‘ _early_ ’?” he asked.

Hermione grabbed the small alarm clock of the bedside table to look at the time, and then set it back down, “It’s six a.m.” she said sighing.

 

She felt his hand slide down her side and over her hip under the blankets.

 

“Tom, what are you doing?” she asked him with a knowing smirk.

“You don’t have to be at Hogwarts until eight a.m.” he said giving her a naughty grin as he shifted his body so that he was between her legs, the blanket being cast aside with his foot.

“Tom…”

He ignored her, and began leaving a trail of kisses down her neck, and nibbling on her collarbone.

 

“Tom…” she said again shaking his shoulder trying to get his attention.

 

He continued to ignore her as he kissed his way down to her breasts, and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth when he felt a sharp sting on his backside

 

“Fuck! What the _fuck_ was that?!” he yelped as he jerked away from her, his eyes wide in surprise as he looked over his shoulder and down at his bare _and now throbbing_ behind. There were two puncture wounds on his left ass cheek, and it was already beginning to swell.

 

Nagini bit him on the ass.

 

Tom looked in shock from the bite mark to Nagini, and began hissing angrily at her. The best part was, Hermione could now understand all of it.

 

“Nagini, you bit me, you little shit!” Tom hissed, still in disbelief.

 

“Yessss, Massster. You mussst not harm my misssstresss.” Nagini hissed calmly, seemingly ignoring his insult.

 

“I wasn’t hurting her, _trust me_.” He hissed in response

 

Hermione sniggered at that, and Tom whipped his head around to glare at her, and she tried to make herself look contrite.

 

Tom turned to focus on Nagini again, “Nagini, Hermione is my mate. I would never hurt her. Do you understand?” he hissed once again at the large snake. If snakes could make facial expressions, she was certain that Nagini would be raising a skeptical eyebrow right now at Tom.

 

“Masssster looked like he was threatening misssstressss.” Nagini hissed.

 

Tom barked out a laugh and pinched the bridge of his nose. His butt cheek was really starting to ache now, and his heart rate had increased.

 

He looked at Hermione and gave her an exasperated look.

 

“Are you seriously asking me to explain the mechanics of sex to a snake?” She stifled her laughter, and then looked around him to make eye contact with Nagini.

 

“Nagini, Tom wasn’t hurting me. We were…uh…we were… _mating_.” Hermione hissed at the snake.

 

Nagini finally seemed to understand, and her eyes blinked before she looked quickly back and forth between Hermione and Tom, and then said, “My Misssstake” before she quickly slithered off the bed and out of the room to avoid Tom’s wrath.

 

“Son of a bitch, that hurts!” Tom said moving his hand over the spot on his butt where Nagini had bit him.

 

“Let me see.” Hermione said clinically scooting out from underneath him and trying to look at his ass.

 

“Ouch! No, just leave it alone, it’ll be fine.” He said in annoyance.

“Tom, don’t be ridiculous, Nagini has venom. Let me see it.” She said in her bossy tone, with her hands on her hips. It didn’t quite have the same effect since she was naked, but he complied with a huff.

 

Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when he finally turned around. His left butt cheek was red and swollen; almost twice it’s normal size, with two angry puncture wounds at the center. She grabbed her beaded bag off the nightstand, and her wand, and _accio’d_ her medical kit from inside of it.

 

She handed him a small stone, “Here, put this bezoar as far back in your throat as you can. It will help absorb the venom in your system.” She instructed.

 

He glared at her, but complied, already starting to feel his heart rate slow down from the accelerated beating it had been doing only moments ago.

 

Hermione waved her wand over his backside and placed a cooling charm over his skin, and the whispered ‘ _Episky_ ’. The puncture wounds in his skin closed quickly, and the redness faded away, leaving only the swelling behind. She pulled a potion vial from the medical kit, and handed it to Tom.

 

“This is an anti-inflammatory potion. In about five more minutes, you can remove the bezoar, and then take this potion. That should take care of the swelling.” She said matter of fact.

 

He blinked at her, not able to speak with the bezoar in his mouth, and grabbed the potion roughly out of her hands with a glare. How humiliating; not only was he, the heir of Slytherin, bitten by his _own_ snake, but he had to have his _mudblood_ wife heal him.

 

 _How pathetic_.

 

Finally, after he removed the bezoar and swallowed the potion, thankfully feeling his butt return to its former glory, he rolled out of bed without a word and headed towards the bathroom.

 

“Tom? Are you angry?” she asked meekly, hoping he wasn’t going to go back to ignoring her again after they had just seemed to finally move past their differences regarding the pregnancy.

 

He stopped, his jaw ticking, as he spun to look at her, “Angry? Why should I be angry?” he snarled crossing his arms over his chest and talking to her like she was stupid. _She hated that._

 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, “For your information, I was only trying to help. I tried to get your attention before it happened, but you ignored me! All I did was heal you, you ungrateful prat!” she said mirroring his stance and glaring back at him.

 

His eyes fell to the hollow of her throat, and something in his eyes softened. He lifted the small thimble that was hanging from the chain around her neck.

 

“You still wear this ridiculous thing?” he said, the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

 

She deflated in her anger, and clasped her hand over the thimble, and clutched it to her chest.

“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?” she asked, her eyes searching his

 

“I don’t know…I just thought…” he trailed off, and then he leaned in to capture her lips. The kiss was so light and gentle, so different from the way he usually kissed her.

 

“Join me in the shower? I mean, you’ll need to take one before work anyway, right?” he finally asked, threading his fingers through hers as he pulled her towards the bathroom.

 

She smirked recognizing that this was his way of apologizing, and allowed him to pull her into the bathroom.

 

She stepped into the shower behind him, as he pulled her against his chest, kissing her languidly as the warm water streamed over them. His hands slid down her sides, his thumbs skimming the sides of her breasts as she pressed herself against him. She could feel his hardness pressed against her inner thigh, and she moaned as he suddenly pressed her up against the shower wall, lifting her up so that her legs were wrapped around his hips. He sunk into her with a groan, and she bit down on her bottom lip as she met his heated gaze. He slowly began to move inside of her, his wet hair falling into his eyes as he leaned towards her to trace her collarbone with his tongue. Hermione was panting against his neck, her wet hair clinging to her skin, the pleasure begin to build within her as she felt his cock hitting that spot deep inside of her that made her lose all control. She raked her nails down his back and her body tensed as she came, his name falling from her lips as he pounded into her. He gave a few more thrusts, and came inside of her with a growl, breathing heavily against her heated skin. He held her waist as she moved her feet back to the shower floor, barely able to support her own weight after the intense orgasm he had given her. He smirked at her, as she steadied herself, and she couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped her mouth.

 

“So I guess you could say that Nagini can be a real pain in the ass, huh?” she snickered.

Tom glared at her, and rolled his eyes at her, his lips twitching into the ghost of a smile before he could stop it.

“You better not tell anyone about that. I mean it. I’m thinking about making you take an unbreakable vow.” He said raising an eyebrow at her, which only made her laugh even harder.

 

“I’m serious Hermione, Not a word!” he said brandishing his finger at her.

 

Hermione snorted. She would definitely savor that particular memory.

 

She wiped the tears from her eyes from her laughter, and acquiesced, “Fine, Tom, I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” she said making a gesture with her hands as she crossed her heart.

 

He seemed to relax after she promised to keep that particular bit of information to herself, and they finished their shower and stepped out. Tom left her in the bathroom telling her that he would make her some tea in the kitchen before she had to leave.

 

She nodded, and took her time getting ready for work. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Nagini was once again coiled on the end of their bed, looking at her expectantly.

 

“Nagini, I think you should apologize to Tom. He’s quite upset about what you did.” Hermione hissed.

 

“Yesss…I wasss afraid he would be. I will go make amendsssss.” Nagini hissed back, and slithered off of the bed presumably to go find Tom.

 

By the time Hermione reached the kitchen, she found Tom sipping his tea, with Nagini coiled on the kitchen island in front of him, and he was absently stroking her jaw as he read the daily prophet. Hermione smiled, seeing that he had clearly forgiven her. She didn’t comment, as she moved to the island and picked up her tea.

 

Tom broke the silence, “This weekend I was thinking we could set up the nursery in one of the spare rooms.”

 

It was the last thing she had expected him to say, and her mouth gaped open as she stared at him, feeling her heart swell in her chest.

 

“Unless you don’t want to of course…” he trailed off giving her a small smile.

 

She didn’t trust herself to speak, but instead launched herself into his arms. She felt his arms move up to embrace her, and she felt his breath tickling her neck as he held her against him.

 

When she finally was able to speak without being overly emotional, she whispered in his ear, “Thank you.”

 

He didn’t respond, but she could feel him smile against her cheek. It was enough; it was a start.

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

Professor Dumbledore watched Hermione carefully as she moved about the classroom, assisting the students with their transfiguration assignments, and could tell that she seemed in much better spirits today. He even caught her smiling to herself as she graded papers between classes.

 

By the time lunch rolled around, Professor Dumbledore tapped her on the shoulder, smiling down to her kindly.

“Hermione, I’m happy to see you appear to be feeling much better today.”

 

Hermione returned his smile, “Yes, well, you were right, professor, Tom has finally come around.”

 

He was mildly surprised, but pleased all the same. Maybe there was hope for the boy after all?

“I am pleased to hear it. Now, I believe you should go have something to eat, you are after all eating for two as they say.” He said shooing her out of the classroom towards the great hall.

 

She stopped in the doorway, turning back to look at her mentor, “Oh, Albus? Would it be alright if I left a little early today? I’d like to stop and pick up a few books before going home tonight.” She asked meekly, hoping he would agree.

 

“Of course, Hermione, you have only free periods this afternoon anyway, I see no reason why you need to spend that time at Hogwart’s.” he told her giving her a small smile.

 

Hermione nodded, and left the classroom, heading towards the Great Hall. Most likely, Professor Dumbledore thought she would be looking for baby books to prepare her for what she would experience during her pregnancy. Little did he know she was planning on researching one of the darkest forms of magic in existence.

 

Not only did she still need to see if she could find a link between horcruxes and time travel, but now, more than anything, she wanted to see if there was a way to unmake Tom’s horcruxes. Destroying a horcrux would destroy the soul fragment contained within it, but not only would her marriage vows prevent her from doing that, but there was a growing part of her that longed to stay in this time with Tom; the idea of making his soul whole again and raising their child together made her heart clench.

 

It was time to go to the only place where she would find the answers she needed; Knockturn Alley.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say THANK YOU to you all again - this story now has TWO HUNDRED kudos, and 50 reviews! Thank you all so much! I wanted to mention two of my other Tomione fics that haven't gotten as much notice, because I think you guys will really like them! they are both multi-chapter WIP's :
> 
> "Elixir of Life" is a vampire Tomione fic - one that loosely follows the storyline of True Blood (though it's going to start veering off now in the next chapter) though all characters have been replaced with HP and Twilight Characters. There are currently 8 chapters so far! 
> 
> Also, I have one called "Closer" that is a Tomione non-magic AU where Tom is a rockstar (known as "Lord Voldemort") and he meets Hermione at a private party. It was heavily inspired by the music of Nine Inch Nails, and the Swedish band Ghost, as well as the fact that I am a huge NIN fan and saw them perform live 17 times...LOL. Lots of smut in both stories! If you haven't checked them out, I would love it if you did, and let me know what you think! 
> 
> As for this story, I really enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you all do as well - as usual, please leave me a review! I love hearing your thoughts and speculations on where you think this story is going! xo

**~~{0}~~**

 

Hermione used the fireplace in the Headmaster’s office to floo to Diagon Alley. She pulled her cloak tightly around herself, and kept her hand on her wand inside of her pocket as she quickly made her way to the dodgiest section of wizarding London. She was careful to stay far away from Borgin & Burkes, not wanting to risk running into Tom, as she walked purposely towards a decrepit looking building whose sign was weathered and broken where it hung over the door. There were piles of Books blocking the window, and she opened the door and stepped inside. This shop was the polar opposite of Flourish and Blotts with its dim lighting, and ancient looking texts stacked precariously into unorganized towers throughout the room, since the bookshelves were already stuffed to capacity. There was no one in the shop that she could see, and did not want to draw attention to herself, considering the topic she was there to research.

 

She made her way over to the shelves to see if she could discern how the books might be categorized, but there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to how the books were placed; they weren’t alphabetized, or grouped by subject, or even by their age.

 

Hermione sighed, and then jumped when a raspy voice behind her said, “Can I help you find something Dearie?”

 

Hermione spun around and came face to face with a withered old crone whose back was twisted in an unnatural way as she was hunched forward staring at Hermione with milky white eyes.

 

“Oh, I was trying to see how your books were organized.” Hermione said after a moment.

 

The crone cackled, “This isn’t a library, missy, you won’t find any such thing here. I know where every book in this shop resides. Tell me what it is that you seek.”

Hermione took a deep breath, she really hadn’t wanted anyone to know what she was looking for, but the old witch wasn’t leaving her much of a choice.

 

“I want to know about Horcruxes.” Hermione told her, gripping her wand a bit tighter in her pocket.

The crone wheezed, “You won’t be needing your wand now, missy” and seemed to study her with her milky eyes. If Hermione hadn’t known better, she would have assumed this witch was blind, but clearly she knew that Hermione had been gripping her wand.

 

“I can help you. Come.” The crone said before turning and limping deep into the shop, not waiting to see if Hermione was following her. Hermione glanced around again, and followed the old witch and then hesitated when the crone disappeared behind a heavy velvet drape. _Should she follow her?_

 

After a few minutes, when the crone had not returned, Hermione hesitantly pulled the drape aside and stepped behind it into a back room of some sort. The room was even darker than the shop had been, lit only by candles stationed around the perimeter of the room. The old witch was seated at a small round table, and there was a heavy looking book sitting in front of her. The witch placed her withered hand on the book and caressed it almost lovingly, as she turned her milky eyes back to Hermione.

“The Necronomicon. It holds the answers you seek.” The crone said sliding the book towards Hermione, as she sat in the chair opposite her.

 

“The book of the dead.” Hermione whispered in awe. She had only heard rumors of the book’s existence, but no one, to her knowledge, had ever found it. Clearly, it was real, and sitting in front of her now. It was a large heavy looking tome, that appeared to be bound in some sort of strange leather with what disturbingly looked like a face, and as she reached her hand towards it, the crone’s voice stopped her.

 

“You must offer a blood sacrifice to the book in order to obtain the knowledge within its pages. This knowledge comes at a price, dearie.” The crone wheezed.

 

Hermione hesitated. She was smart enough to know the dangers of blood magic, and this book that sat before her held the darkest magic in existence.

 

“What is the price?” Hermione asked, her heart beating faster in her chest.

“That I cannot say, the price will be revealed in time. It is for you to decide if the knowledge you seek is worth paying for.” The crone said with a malevolent smile.

 

Was it worth it? Would the possibility of restoring Tom’s soul and living a life with him here in the past be worth it? Or if that could not be undone, the book may have the answers to allowing her to return to her own time. Would _that_ be worth it?

 

With her mind made up, a silver dagger slid across the table towards her, and she picked it up with a trembling hand.

 

“Offer your blood to the book’s cover, and think about the information you seek. The book will show you what you wish to know.”

 

Hermione took a deep breath and sunk the tip of the blade into her palm, and inhaled sharply against the pain. Blood began to well up from the wound, and she held her hand over the book’s ancient cover, allowing it to drip over what looked like a mouth stretched open wide. The blood was quickly absorbed into the book, as if it was drinking her offering greedily. After a few moments, the book began to glow, and it flipped open, pages flying fast to a specific section of the book. The pages were yellowed from age, but it was the ink that gave her pause, the words on the pages were written in blood; _her blood_.

 

The crone stood then, and left her alone to read.

 

_Everlasting Life:_

_To achieve everlasting life, one must split the soul and preserve it within an object. This object becomes a horcrux that is unaffected by the passage of time. As the body ages and eventually expires, resurrection into a new vessel can occur though a ritual that transfers the soul contained within the horcrux to the new vessel._

_To extend life, one must take a life. The offering of one life for another is necessary to complete the ritual._

_When a horcrux is made, it is entwined with the fabric of time, allowing it to remain in suspension indefinitely. A life may be resurrected from a horcrux after any length of time, provided the ritual is completed and a new vessel has been prepared. The ritual is most effective when the vessel containing the sacrifice is then used for transfer of the displaced soul fragment._

_Once the soul has been fractured, only true remorse and a willing sacrifice can restore the soul to its original state._

 

Hermione leaned back, and processed the information she had read. According to the book, the only way for Tom’s soul to be restored would be if he felt true remorse for those he killed. Also, someone would have to be willing to die for him, in order to restore his soul. _Neither of those scenarios were likely to happen_ , thought Hermione dejectedly. There also was not very much information on time travel in regards to horcruxes, but the part about how a horcrux was entwined with the fabric of time at the point of creation stood out to her. When she had attempted to destroy the cup, and she had accidentally set off the time turner, it had not transported her to some random time, but to the time when the cup had been turned into a horcrux. She filed away the information, and stood, wanting to get as far from the book as she could. She reached out towards it to close it, and gasped when her fingers made contact with the cover. It was warm, and there was no mistaking what the book had been bound in; human skin. She backed away from it, her breath coming out in short pants. She pushed past the heavy drape, into the bookshop, and the crone was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t wait, and rushed out of the door quickly, making sure her cloak was tightly secured before making her way back to Diagon Alley. There was absolutely no way she was going to tell anyone about what she had done there today, and the thought of the book’s ‘price’ haunted her all the way home. She stepped into the living room, wanting nothing more than to take a hot bath, and made her way quickly up the stairs to their bedroom. She had just pulled her cloak off when she heard a noise coming from one of the guest rooms. She pulled her wand out of her cloak, and crept quietly down the hall with her heart pounding in her chest. She knew it hadn’t been Nagini, because she had been coiled on the rug by the fireplace downstairs when Hermione had entered. She held her wand out in front of her, her hand trembling, as she turned the knob silently, and cracked open the door slowly.

 

The sight that met her eyes made her breath catch in her throat. Tom was standing on a small ladder, shirtless wearing only a pair of old faded jeans with a handkerchief hanging from his back pocket, and he was painting the wall. He heard her small gasp of surprise and turned around, a blush rising to his cheeks at being caught.

“What are you…?” she trailed off. She was not only confused about why he was home so early, but also why he was _painting the room_ the muggle way, when he could easily have done it with  magic.

 

“I wanted to surprise you…I didn’t think you would be home this early.” He said sheepishly as he climbed down from the ladder.

 

“You’re _painting_?” she asked and reached out to wipe a smudge of paint off of his cheek, a smirk forming at the corner of her lips.

 

“Yeah…I have been doing some reading, and too much unnecessary magic used around the baby can be harmful, so I thought I would…mmhmmm” He was cut off by Hermione’s lips crashing into his, silencing whatever he was about to say. Distantly, she heard the paint brush clatter to the floor, but was beyond caring when his hands went to the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She had never wanted him more than she did in that moment; they sunk to the floor together, never breaking the kiss, as she pulled him on top of her, arching her hips desperately to meet his. He hiked her skirt up to her waist and her hands were unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down hurriedly over his hips. He pushed her knickers to the side and sunk into her welcoming heat with a groan. He propped himself up over her on his elbows as her fingers entwined with his above her head. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and met his thrusts with her own as he took her on the floor. A feeling that she had never felt before welled up inside her, threatening to suffocate her as the realization of what it meant was finally understood, and she could no longer hold back the words as they fell from her lips

“I love you” she breathed against his neck as her release washed over her, and she felt him climax inside of her a moment later. She could feel his breath fan across her neck followed by his lips as he got his breathing back under control from his exertion.

 

“Maybe I should paint more often?” he chuckled rolling off of her and pulling his jeans back up over his hips.

 

Hermione chuckled, “I just hadn’t expected…when did you do all of this?” she asked, a smile forming on her lips

 

“Well, as I said, I have been doing a bit of reading, and I thought it best to ready the room without magic. I figured I could get the room painted, and then this weekend we could set up the furniture…you seemed amenable to the idea earlier.” He said leaning back on his elbows and watching her as she looked up at him with a small smile.

“Of course you would pick green.” She laughed and leaned over to kiss his lips.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Well, no son of mine is sleeping in a red and gold room, I’ll have you know.”

 

She smacked him on the arm playfully, “I happen to like red. Besides, it could be a girl you know.”

 

“Merlin help me if I have a daughter.” He chuckled and ran a hand over his face.

 

Hermione snickered at the mental image of him glaring down her future boyfriends. The poor girl would never get any dates!

 

“No, I’ll have a son.” He said confidently as he stood, and pulled her to her feet.

 

Hermione had a feeling it was a boy too, though she would be happy either way.

 

“What are you doing home so early?” he asked, as he picked up the paintbrush off of the floor.

 

“I had a free research period after lunch today, and I was feeling a bit nauseous, so Professor Dumbledore told me to take the afternoon off to rest.” She said dismissively, “I was about to take a bath when I heard something in here and found you painting.” She smirked.

 

“Well, I had hoped it would be a surprise. I would’ve had the room finished before you got home.” He said looking slightly disappointed that she had obviously ruined the surprise.

“Well, I’m still surprised, and I love it. Thank you.” She said wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning up to kiss him.

 

“You should go take your bath, and I’ll finish up here. We can order in tonight.” He said as he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and dropped a kiss on her forehead. She nodded and gave him another smile before she left the room to take her bath.

 

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

Tom watched Hermione leave, and he climbed back up onto the ladder to continue painting. He hadn’t expected her to be back so early, and truthfully, he was a little embarrassed for her to find him doing something so disgustingly muggle. When Hermione had first told him of her pregnancy, he was livid. It had not been in his plans at all to have a child, but over time, the idea had become intriguing. The child, like him, would be a Parselmouth, and the next heir of Slytherin. The child would become his _legacy_. The only problem that he currently faced, was that he knew absolutely nothing about babies, so he remedied that as best he could by doing what he always did when faced with the unfamiliar; he turned to books. He read books about pregnancy, labor and delivery, A Witch’s Guide to Baby’s First Year, and even Early Childhood and Magical Development. Initially, he had intended to redecorate the nursery with magic, but it was in these books that he leaned how susceptible newborns are to magic in their immediate environment, and decided to paint the room the muggle way to avoid the possibility of his child becoming a squib. That was a thought that kept him awake at night. For someone as powerful as himself, as well as Hermione, to have a non-magic child would be unacceptable. He firmly put the thought out of his mind, and then his thoughts drifted back to Hermione.

She had said she loved him.

 

He knew he enjoyed the physical benefits of having her around, certainly, and he appreciated her intelligence, and quick wit. Above all, he considered her a prized asset; she was a time traveler, and had access to information about the future for which he could only dream. She had told him some things, but there was so much more he was certain he could get from her once he fully had her trust. Lately though, he found himself doing things that he hadn’t wanted to examine to closely; like giving her the necklace. She had been responding favorably to him without it, but, there was a part of him that had wanted to give it to her; a part of him that craved her attention, and that wanted her to _want_ him. _Did he love her_? It was a question that he had been asking himself more and more lately. The concept had been completely foreign, but there was something about her that called to him. It was this feeling that persisted that made him want to please her, just to see if she what would happen.

 

The thought of Hermione holding their newborn son in her arms, and looking up at him with a smile made a sudden warmth flare in his chest, and on his lips formed a small contented smile.

 

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

Hermione was lying with her head resting against the back of the tub, and her eyes closed tightly. She couldn’t get the image of the Necronomicon out of her mind, and what the _price_ could possibly be that she had agreed to pay the moment her blood spilled across its pages. She hoped whatever it was would be worth it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! OMG you guys...SEVENTEEN reviews on the last chapter alone!! You guys are amazing!! I apologize for the delay on getting this chapter (as well as updates for my other fics) out, it's been crazy busy the last few weeks, not to mention the twins having a cold, and starting full time daycare...whew! Anyway, I'm back in the saddle, and wanted to get this out there for you guys. I hope you like this chapter, things are going to heat up in the next chapter...so stay tuned!!! Please tell me what you think and leave a review! xoxo

Hermione awoke the next morning, prepared for her usual bout of morning sickness with a few potion vials she kept on the bedside table. She was about ten weeks along now, and thankfully, the nausea seemed to affect her less and less. With any luck, it would soon be gone completely. Once she was sure that her stomach had sufficiently settled, she swung her legs out of bed, and pulled her bathrobe tightly around herself, and shoved her feet into her fuzzy slippers. Tom had given her ‘the look’ when she had transfigured them, but she ignored his teasing since they were sublimely comfortable.

 

“Are you certain you wouldn’t rather go to the shops in Diagon Alley?” Hermione asked raising an eyebrow in surprise.

 

“No, I’d prefer to go to a muggle department store. I do not want to take the risk surrounding the child with enchanted furniture until we can be sure it is safe to do so. Also, we won’t be recognized there.” He said as an afterthought.

 

 _Ah_ …He didn’t want to run into any of his followers while shipping for baby furniture. She smirked.

 

“That is fine with me” she said giving him a small smile as she sipped her tea.

 

After they finished their tea and Hermione ate a few pieces of toast, they dressed and used the floo to arrive in Diagon Alley, and then from there crossed into muggle London through the Leaky Cauldron. It seemed strange to be walking down the busy sidewalk, with cars passing by, while Tom Riddle had her arm looped through his. Eventually, they came upon a baby boutique in South London called “Peppermint” and stepped inside to look around. If anyone had ever told Hermione that someday, she’d be shopping for a baby crib with Lord Voldemort, she would have slapped them silly. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity of the thought, and refocused on what they were there to do. After almost an hour of looking at all manner of crib styles and colors, they finally settled on a black wooden simple crib design, with a matching set of draws and an armoire. Hermione had scrunched her nose up at the color choice, but in the end, she had grudgingly admitted that it was more fitting than the white one that had caught her eye. In addition to the furniture set, they also purchased a crib mattress, a changing station, and a few other small items such as a night light, a crib mobile, and a rocking chair. It was especially convenient that their house was a muggle home, and would allow for easily delivery of their purchases, rather than having to _obliviate_ the delivery men after they’d done their job. It was a nice day, and before returning to their house, Tom took Hermione for lunch in a small muggle café. Despite not liking muggles, he grudgingly admitted that the food at this particular café was quite good. 

 

A week later, Hermione was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet when the delivery truck arrived, and the nursey furniture was delivered. After everything had been assembled and moved into the nursey, Hermione followed the delivery men outside to sign for everything and give them a tip, as she was sure that Tom would not be as generous with them as she would be.

 

“Say, isn’t this the house where those murders happened a few years back?” one of the drivers said as he stood facing Hermione as she signed the delivery slip.

 

“Yeah, you know, I think it is…I remember reading about that in the paper.” The other man said, eyeing Hermione suspiciously.

 

Hermione cleared her throat, “Yes, unfortunately, a family was tragically killed here some time ago. I imagine that was why my husband and I were able to get this house for practically a steal.” Hermione said casually, feeling a pang of guilt in her stomach as the lie rolled so easily off her tongue.

 

“It doesn’t creep you out living in a place where people died?” one of them asked raising his eyebrows as he took the paper and pen from her hands.

 

“Well, we try not to think about it.” She said giving him a small shrug as she pressed the folded bills into his palm.

 

The driver smiled gratefully at her generous tip, and nodded politely, “Best of luck with your little one.” He said as they both gave a small wave and headed back to their truck. Hermione absently rubbed her stomach with one hand while she used the other to shield her eyes from the sun as she watched them drive away, before heading back into the house.

 

When she walked into the nursery, Tom was already there, re-arranging furniture until he seemed to find a configuration that was pleasing to him.

 

“Well, what do you think?” he asked as he stepped back next to her in the doorway to take in the room.

“I think it’s starting to become real.” She said with a smile as she looked at the small mobile that hung over the crib.

 

Tom smirked, and his hand landed on the small of her back as she took it all in, and gave her a speculative look.

 

“You know, I always knew there were specific things I wanted to achieve. I never would have thought being a father would have been one of them.” He admitted quietly.

 

Hermione turned her head sharply to look up at him in surprise, her mouth forming a small “o”.

“Tom, I…” she began and his lips silenced her before he pulled back again to look in her eyes.

“Look, I know that we had our _differences_ over it…” he said, and Hermione snorted in amusement.

 

“You tried to kill me, Tom.” She chuckled.

 

“Yes, well, to be fair, you did throw up on my shoes.” He said grinning before he continued, “It was unexpected, and it took a while for me to wrap my head around it…but…I would never wish for a child to grow up unwanted, not like…” he trailed off gritting his teeth.

 

Hermione reached down to grasp his hand, and he looked at her questioningly as she lifted it first to her lips, placing a soft kiss on his knuckles before lowering it and placing it over her stomach.

 

“He knows, Tom. He knows.” She said quietly as a small contented smile formed on his lips.

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

Later that evening, Tom stood in his study and looked around before making a small cut in his palm, and smearing his blood over a charmed painting to reveal a secret compartment. Inside sat his most prized possessions, some that very literally held a part of him. His small black diary, the Gaunt family ring, the Slytherin Locket, Hufflepuff’s cup, and now Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem were all there, hidden away from prying eyes under the protection of a blood ward. He had thought about storing them at Gringott’s many times in his vault, but now that Hermione had access to it, he didn’t want to take any chances. He pulled the diadem out, and inspected it closely. He had not yet completed the ritual to turn it into a horcrux, and turned it over in his hands.

 

_Maybe four were enough?_

 

A small voice in the back of his mind hissed in protest;

 

_Seven…._

 

He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Hermione had been very adamant about not creating any more horcruxes, since it wouldn’t make any difference in the future, according to her. But what if she had been _lying_?

Everything had changed since she had been thrust into his life. He still very much wanted to achieve what he had set out to do; to take over the Ministry of Magic, and shape the magical community to his vision…one where wizards no longer had to hide, and could out the muggles in their rightful place. Where he thought muggles were weak, and pathetic, Hermione saw them as innovative and _equal_. The strength of her magic alone was proof that the rhetoric was false; muggleborns were not magically inferior to purebloods at all. Initially, Tom had willingly believed the lies, ashamed as he was of his own blood status, and decided to encourage this way of thinking and use it to his advantage. He was powerful, and a direct ancestor of Salazar Slytherin; half-blood or no, the purebloods would follow him. Then _she_ came along. He could sense how powerful she was the first time they were together. They both had a lot to drink, but he could feel the raw pulse of magic beneath her skin as his lips trailed over her throat. And now, she was carrying a child… _his child_. The child would have his power, his ability, and his ambition, and yet also he would have her strength, her intelligence, and her compassion. He thought about that, and shivered; this child could be a _king_ , not only ruling over the magical world, but over the non-magical one as well.

 

He sighed, looking back down at the small delicate looking tiara in his hands, and placed it back into the secret compartment, and once again securing it with a drop of blood over the charmed painting. He had plenty of time to create more horcruxes. For now, he would focus on the child.

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

Hermione snuggled further into the soft blankets, a contented smile on her lips as she felt Tom lying next to her. She was disturbed by a creaking noise coming from the opposite side of the room, and she looked toward the door to see the old crone limping into her bedroom with a malevolent grin twisting her face. Her breath hitched, and she rolled towards Tom to wake him, when instead, she was met with the hate-filled crimson eyes of Lord Voldemort.

 

She gasped in fear, and he lunged at her, grasping her throat and settling atop her to hold her down while he attempted to choke the life out of her. She could hear the mad cackling of the crone as she clawed desperately at his fingers, and his face, kicking her legs as much as his weight above her would allow, as he grinned down at her evilly with his crooked teeth. Knowing that there was no way to overpower him physically; she focused all of her magic and her hatred on the monster above her, and thought over and over again in her mind;

 

_Avada Kedavra…_

_Avada Kedavra…_

_Avada Kedavra…_

_Avada Kedavra…_

_Avada Kedavra…_

 

The pulse of green light that came straight out of her chest went straight into him, his eyes wide with shock as he collapsed limply on top of her and then everything went black.

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

The thrashing woke him up; she was lying beside him, gasping in her sleep, and seemed to be struggling against an invisible attacker. Nagini had also moved up the bed onto her chest in an attempt to calm her from what appeared to be a rather vivid nightmare.

 

Before he could reach out his hand to wake her, he saw a pulse of green light shoot out of her chest, and strike Nagini, and he watched helplessly as the snake was killed instantly, falling limply against her chest. His eyes widened and he shook her shoulder and called out to her desperately, seeing that she was now lying eerily still.

 

“Hermione! Hermione!”

 

~~{0}~~

 

 

Her eyes snapped open, as she heard someone frantically calling out her name, and felt someone desperately shaking her. She could still feel Voldemort’s weight on her chest…

 

Hermione looked down, and cried out in horror as she saw Nagini draped across her body, her head hanging limply at an odd angle. Tom was looking sadly at the snake, seemingly still in shock, and he pulled her large body off of Hermione and covered her gently with the sheet at the foot of the bed.

 

“Tom?! Tom!” she cried as he pulled her into his arms. She was in near hysterics as she sobbed against his chest.

 

“How did this happen?” he heard her choke out between sobs.

 

He thought about the green light that had shot out of her chest, which he knew could only mean one thing, but that just wasn’t possible. No one could cast an unforgivable without a wand…

 

“Hermione, what were you dreaming about before you woke up?”

 

Hermione froze, remembering the terrifying feeling of being choked to death by Lord Voldemort, and looked up into the face of the man… _her husband_ …who was on a path to become the very same monster.

 

“I…don’t remember.” She lied.

 

“Hermione, you cast the killing curse in your sleep… _wandlessly_.” He said leveling his gaze at her, wanting so badly to look inside her mind.

“I… _what_? That’s impossible!” She shrieked, remembering how she had thought it over and over again, willing him to just _die_.

 

“Apparently, it’s not…I watched it happen.” He said searching her face as if it would give him some clue as to what she had been dreaming about.

 

Her face crumpled as her eyes glanced over to where Nagini’s lifeless body was coiled at the foot of the bed covered by a sheet, when she remembered the crone...

 

 _The price_ …

 

“I didn’t mean…Oh god, what have I done? forgive me!” she sobbed against his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, holding him to her like a lifeline.

 

He held her close to him, until her sobs died away. When he offered to deal with Nagini’s body, she adamantly refused, and told him that she would handle it herself. Once she was dressed, she levitated the large snake down the stairs and out the back door, and walked across the yard over to the sunny spot at the edge of the yard by the cemetery. She eased the levitation charm to lower the snake to the ground, still wrapped in the white bedsheet. She grabbed the shovel from the large neglected shed and began to dig. She didn’t stop digging until her hands were blistered, and her eyes were red rimmed. Once she was certain that the hole was large enough to accommodate the large reptile, she knelt down and laid her hand upon the large snake’s head.

“I’m so sorry. It was an accident… I never meant…” she sighed, choking back a sob, “You were a good friend to me, Nagini, and I’ll miss you.”

 

She took another deep breath and gently moved the large snake into the hole, with the sheet lovingly wrapped over her long thick body, and began to fill it in. Once it was filled in, she found a large rock, and transfigured it into a small headstone etched with a serpent, and the name, “Nagini”

 

She took one last look at the small grave, and put the shovel back into the shed before heading back into the house. As she passed by the kitchen island, Tom offered her a cup of tea.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She held up her hand to stop him before he could start questioning her, and accepting the tea gratefully.

 

“We need to know how you were able to do that. What if it happens again?” he looked at her seriously, and she swallowed, her shoulders slumping in resignation.

“You’re right…what if…oh god, what if it happens again and I hurt our child?” She said clasping her hand over her mouth in fear.

 

“I need to know what led up to that. If you can’t remember what you were dreaming about, maybe you could let me see…” he offered, and finally, after several moments, she shook her head.

 

He walked over to her slowly, and gently cupped her face in his hands.

 

“I’ll be gentle.” He told her, as is thumb brushed over her cheek.

 

She looked into his eyes, and he whispered, “Legillimens”

 

He felt as if he were seeing through Hermione’s eyes. She was relishing the warmth and comfort of the blankets, when the creaking of the door caught her attention. A withered old crone limped into their bedroom, and he instantly felt Hermione’s fear as if it were his own. He moved in her body towards where he was lying beside her in an attempt to rouse him, when instead he was looking into the crimson eyes of what he knew must be his future self. His eyes were as red as blood, and he was pale as a corpse, bald, and had snake-like slits where his nose should have been. The monsterous form of Lord Voldemort lunged and had his fingers around her throat, and a sense of panic filled him as he struggled to get his breath. He could feel her hatred for her would be killer swelling inside of her as if it would fill every part of her body. He felt her magic pulsing wildly beneath her skin, and then, he could sense her wish for him to just die…then it happened. All of her magic and hatred seemed to coalesce into the green jet of light that shot from her chest into his, though truly, he knew it was Nagini who had taken the hit.

 

He latched onto the image of the crone, feeling that there had been something familiar about her and that somehow, she had been the cause. Her memories shifted then, and suddenly, he was following her out of Diagon Alley into Knockturn Alley. He watched as she approached the small ramshackle bookshop, and stepped inside. Her fingers ran along the spines of the books trying to make sense of them, when the crone, the same one from her nightmare, was suddenly behind her.

 

“I want to know about Horcruxes.” Hermione’s voice said, and he watched with surprised interest as the crone beckoned her to follow. He could feel Hermione’s trepidation rolling off of her in waves as she debated whether or not to follow the crone behind the heavy black velvet curtain into an unknown hidden room. Finally, he watched as her fingers pushed the drape aside, and his eyes adjusted to the dim candle light that cast flickering shadows over the dingy walls.

 

The old witch was seated at a small round table, and there was a large book sitting in front of her. He watched through her eyes as the witch placed her withered hand on the book and caressed it almost lovingly, as she turned her milky eyes back to Hermione, giving a faint grin, almost as if she could see _through_ her, into _his_ eyes. Tom shuddered.

“The Necronomicon. It holds the answers you seek.” The crone said sliding the book towards Hermione, as she sat in the chair opposite her.

 

“The book of the dead.” He heard Hermione whisper in awe.

 

_Impossible…_

 

It appeared to be bound in some sort of strange leather with what looked like a face, and as she reached her hand towards it, the crone’s voice stopped her.

 

“You must offer a blood sacrifice to the book in order to obtain the knowledge within its pages. This knowledge comes at a price, dearie.” The crone wheezed.

 

He felt Hermione’s hesitation then, he knew she wouldn’t have made the decision lightly. She was smart enough to know the dangers of blood magic, and this book that sat before her held the darkest magic in existence.

 

“What is the price?” He heard her ask in a small voice, her heart beating faster in her chest.

“That I cannot say, the price will be revealed in time. It is for you to decide if the knowledge you seek is worth paying for.” The crone said with a malevolent smile.

 

He felt Hermione grow anxious, seeming to internally debate something, when the silver dagger slid across the table towards her. He watched as she picked it up with a trembling hand.

 

“Offer your blood to the book’s cover, and think about the information you seek. The book will show you what you wish to know.”

 

He continued to watch as Hermione took a deep breath and sunk the tip of the blade into her palm, inhaling sharply against the pain. Blood began to well up from the wound, and she held her hand over the book’s ancient cover, allowing it to drip over what looked like a mouth stretched open wide. The blood was quickly absorbed into the book, as if it was drinking her offering greedily. After a few moments, the book began to glow, and it flipped open, pages flying fast to a specific section of the book. He watched as the crone stood then, and left Hermione alone to read. Tom glanced down at the book in front of her, and read the bold words that were written across the top of the page in his wife’s blood; it read: _Everlasting Life._

Tom broke the connection, and blinked a few times as Hermione stood panting before him.

 

“I did what I thought I had to…I was doing it for you… _for us_.” She explained quickly, once again swallowing back the tears that were threatening to fall.

 

Tom looked up sharply at her, “ _Why_? Why would you risk your life, _our child’s life?_ Did it ever occur to you to ask _me_?” He said angrily taking a step away and turning his back to her.

 

“I didn’t think you would tell me. I didn’t know what would happen!” She protested, reaching towards him again

 

“Of course you didn’t, _you,_ who looks down your nose upon the very kind of magic that you unwittingly exposed yourself too, which is all the more reason why you should have come to me… _Fuck_ …” he said again and raked his hand through his hair.

 

“She said there would be a price…” Hermione said quietly, biting her lip, and crossing her arms protectively across her stomach.

“Well, I’m pretty certain, you just paid it.” He said flatly gesturing towards the window that had a direct view of Nagini’s grave.

 

Hermione nodded mutely, and bit her lip as more fresh tears began to slide down her cheeks.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I know it has been like a month since I updated this, and I sincerely apologize! I'm not one to give excuses, but October was a really rough month with illnesses (the twins) but we're all on the mend, and whew! I can get back to writing. So first, let me say, that there is a TRIGGER WARNING in this chapter. I'll post another note at the end of the chapter to say a few more things about this, but I'll let you read the chapter first. Secondly, THANK YOU to all of you who have favorited, followed, and reviewed this story! It really does humble me, and I so appreciate all of your feedback! Much love to you all! Lastly, I will be going through all of my fics now, and updating them…so keep an eye out! xoxo

It took a while for Hermione to calm down after what they began to call "the incident". He had finally managed to convince her to lie down and get some rest, and as soon as he was sure she was sleep, he strode from the house towards the apparition point at the edge of the yard.

He apparated just behind a building in Knockturn alley, not far from Borgin and Burkes, and covered his face with the hood of his cloak. It didn't take him long to find the strange bookshop that he had seen in Hermione's mind, and he stepped quickly inside. The lighting inside was dim, and the books were stacked precariously around the shop, forcing him to wind his way around them to reach the back room hidden by the large black velvet drape. As he pushed the curtain aside, a raspy voice met his ears coming from the other side of the room.

"I have been expecting you, Tom Riddle." The crone wheezed as she sat in the chair, staring at Tom with her milky white eyes.

"Then you know why I am here." He said with a sneer, approaching the table where she sat.

"Indeed" the crone wheezed as a familiar book floated from one of the stacks behind her, landing gently on the table. Her sinister grin displayed her missing teeth as she slid the book across the table towards Tom.

"It is power that you seek, above all else; everything has a price, Tom Riddle. You are expecting a child, are you not?" She wheezed as she began to laugh maniacally. Tom snarled as he pointed his wand at her chest, to which she only laughed harder. He was shaking now, as a deep rage filled him.

"You dare threaten _me_? Do you have any idea who I am? I am _Lord Voldemort_! _Avada Kedavra_!" he shouted as a green jet of light shot from his wand and into her chest. Her laughter somehow still seemed to echo through the room as the withered husk of her body slumped back against the chair. Tom grasped the silver dagger on the table, and stared down at the book longingly; this book had only been rumored to exist, supposedly written by death himself. The power that this book contained…

_Seven…_

The voice whispered again in the back of his mind, beckoning him to not waste the opportunity that had just presented itself. With a last look at the crone's broken body, he sliced open his palm and smeared his blood over the cover of the book, feeling a shiver run down his spine as he noticed how warm and alive the book felt beneath his hand. He began to chant as he held his hand over the book:

_Accipe sacrificium pro anima mea_ _, sic erit._ _Accipe sacrificium pro anima mea_ _, sic erit._ _Accipe sacrificium pro anima mea_ _, sic erit …_

The book began to glow beneath his palm, and then the pain came. He had known it was coming, having completed this ritual four times already, but he still fell to his knees as his palm remaining connected to the book. Blood pounded in his ears, and his screams mingled with the crone's maniacal laughter that he could still hear, until everything went black.

When he came to, the crone's body was gone. The Necronomicon lay unassumingly upon the table, humming gently with his life force. He rose to his feet, snatching the book from the table and shrunk it, hiding it in the pocket of his cloak. He pulled his hood over his face and disapparated from the shop with a crack.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Hermione was awakened by a stabbing pain in her stomach. She gasped and curled into a ball, clutching her abdomen.

"Tom!" she cried out in panic, knowing without having to be told, that something was terribly wrong.

"Hermione? Hermione!" Tom answered as he darted across the room to their bed when she lay, her eyes squeezed tightly shut from the pain.

"I'm getting the Healer." Tom said urgently, his voice trembling as he dashed back down to the fireplace to connect with St. Mungos through the floo network.

Within moments, The Healer stepped through the floo, and followed Tom up the stairs. Tom froze in the doorway when he saw the blood.

"Tom! The baby…something's wrong!" Hermione managed to choke out between sobs as the healer forcefully pushed Tom aside so that he could get to Hermione.

"How far along was she?" The healer asked as he waved his wand over Hermione's stomach, and pulled a potion vial from his bag and encouraged her to drink it.

Tom paced at the foot of the bed, feeling a cold dread wash over him.

"She's about 9 weeks…wait, what do you mean _was_?"

The healer didn't respond right away, but instead looked down to ensure Hermione was under the influence of the sleeping draught he had given her.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Mr. Riddle, but your wife has lost the baby."

" _What?_ "

"Miscarriages are quite common in the first trimester, unfortunately. The good news, is that I haven't detected anything that would indicate an underlying problem. Your wife will make a full recovery, and in time, you'll be able to try again." The healer said in a matter of fact tone

"Get out." Tom whispered

The healer furrowed his brows as he turned towards Tom, "Now, Mr. Riddle, I understand you are upset, but…"

Tom's wand was suddenly at the man's throat.

"I said _Get. Out_." Tom snarled, his eyes flashing red as the healer backed out of the room quickly and ran down the stairs towards the fireplace.

Tom's wand clattered to the floor as he dropped to his knees beside Hermione, as he grasped her hand in his.

The healer had banished the evidence of her miscarriage, without so much as blinking. There was nothing left, no body to bury, no evidence that his child had ever even existed. He knew Hermione would be devastated when she woke to discover that she was no longer pregnant. Part of him was so angry that he wanted to go after the healer and kill him, but he couldn't bear to leave her side.

"I'm so sorry, my love." He whispered against her still hand, as an anguished sob tore from his throat. He clutched her hand like a life line, as he grieved for a child he never knew he wanted.

 

~~{0}~~

 

It was hours later that Hermione awoke in a dark room. She sat up quickly, feeling the dull ache in her stomach, and her hand immediately went to her belly.

"He's gone." A voice came from the chair next to the bed

Her eyes snapped up to his, and she could only see his silhouette in the darkness, and the occasional glittering of is eyes.

"Tom? What's happened? Why can't I feel him?" Hermione whispered in a panicked tone

"You've lost the baby." Tom said in a flat emotionless tone.

Hermione's face crumpled as the realization sunk in, and she curled up in a ball as she felt her composure slip away.

"How could this happen?" she sobbed, reaching out towards Tom.

He didn't respond, and made no move to comfort her. His jaw tensed as he thought back to what he had seen in Hermione's mind earlier that day; despite the fact that she had been looking for a way to unmake his horcruxes, she still hadn't completely given up on finding a way back to her own time either.

"Consider it a blessing. Now there's nothing forcing you to stay here." He spat.

Hermione froze.

"What?"

"I know you were still looking for a way back." He said in an accusatory tone.

"Tom, that's…I wanted us to be a family. I wanted this to work." She said angrily. _Was he blaming this on her?_

"You can lie to yourself, Hermione, but you can't lie to _me_. I know who it is that plagues your nightmares." Tom spat as he stood abruptly from the chair to lean closer to her face.

Hermione gasped, "What happened to your eyes?" Hermione whispered as a tendril of fear made its way down her spine.

"What's the matter, Hermione, do I _frighten you_?" He sneered as she recoiled and scooted away from him on the bed.

"You did it, didn't you…you made another horcrux. It's happening…" Hermione's voice shook as she pressed her back against the bed frame, as far away from him as she could.

His blood red gaze met hers before he swept from the room, slamming the door behind him without a word.

Hermione dissolved into tears as she felt the anguish of losing both her child and her husband in the same day. The man she knew was gone, leaving behind only the cold exterior, merely a shell of the man she had loved.

 

~~{0}~~

 

The next morning, Hermione rose still feeling the dull ache in her womb, a constant reminder of the child she never even had the chance to meet, and she forced herself into the shower feeling a sense of numbness. She felt lost; more so than she ever had when she suddenly found herself fifty years in the past. She couldn't bear to face Tom, what was left of him; he was beginning to resemble the monster she knew he was destined to become.

She had to get out.

She made up her mind that she would go to Hogwarts, and confide in Professor Dumbledore all that had happened, and tell him everything that she knew would come, even if he didn't want to know. She needed help, and he was the only one left who could help her.

_Hogwarts will always offer help to those who seek it._

With a renewed sense of purpose, she strode from the bathroom and dressed quickly, locking her emotions away, and shrinking her few possessions, placing them in her beaded bag.

If Tom was intent on becoming the Dark Lord, she wasn't going to stay and watch.

As she walked out of her bedroom and started down the hall, she stopped suddenly just outside of the door to his study. There was a familiar hum, low and almost undetectable coming from inside the room. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and she knew instantly that his horcruxes were hidden somewhere in that room. Her breath hitched as she pushed open the door, and looked around. At first glance, the room looked completely normal. There was a writing desk, with some parchment on top next to a quill, and a bookshelf, and a painting hung on the wall. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the painting

_Homenum revelio_

The painting shimmered indicating that it was heavily warded. She tried to take down the wards but it was no use. She knew that eventually in her own time, he would hide his horcruxes in separate locations, but she had to get the cup before he moved them. Then she remembered something that Harry had told her; he had hidden Slytherin's locket deep in an Oceanside cave, and he had used a blood ward to protect it. Hermione lifted her palm and looked at the silvery scar that now marred her skin after she had offered her blood to that awful book. Taking a deep breath, she used her wand to slice open her palm and smeared it across the canvas, hoping that the blood she had shared with her child; _his child_ , would be enough for the ward to recognize. She breathed a sigh of relief when the ward shimmered and after a few moments melted away to reveal a secret compartment. She felt bile rise in her throat when she saw the Necronomicon sitting amongst his other horcruxes, vibrating with a piece of his soul trapped inside. She slid a book off one of the shelves, and transfigured it as an exact replica of Hufflepuff's cup. She knew it wouldn't fool him, not truly, but it may buy her enough time to get away with the real one. She took a deep breath, and grasped the cup's handle, pulling it from its spot in the compartment and replacing it with the fake one. She quickly shrunk the cup, and placed it into her beaded bag, and whispered, " _Finite_ " leaving behind a perfectly unblemished painting. She hurried from the room, and ran to the fireplace, dashing through the floo.

"Mrs. Riddle, what is the meaning of this?" Headmaster Dippet gasped as Hermione tumbled through the floo into his office.

Hermione stood shakily, and brushed herself off, making her apologies as she walked quickly from his office and towards Professor Dumbedore's classroom.

Professor Dumbledore was already seated at his desk, preparing for class when Hermione skidded into the classroom and used her wand to slam and lock the doors, placing a silencing spell on them for good measure.

"Albus, it's happening." She said breathlessly as he looked up quickly from his parchment.

Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair and met her eyes, "Show me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! That was a heavy chapter to write. I know many of you are going to be upset about this development, but, there is a reason for it. Losing this child is going to play a serious role in Tom/Voldemort's character development (as well as Hermione's), and, you know, He already was 4 horcruxes deep when Hermione arrived in the past, so becoming Voldemort was pretty unavoidable. Anyway, I hope you guys have enough faith in me that I can still do this story justice, and stick with me until the end. Please feel free to review, you may find it cathartic. xoxo


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't the longest of chapters, but I feel like a lot happens…I'll put another Author's note at the end, so as not to spoil anything.

Tom stood in the darkness, staring at the front of a crumbling brick building, feeling the anger swelling in his chest. His eyes fell on the iron gate that stood before him; Wool's Orphange.

These pathetic people…these _muggles_ …they go about their lives as if he, a lowly orphan, was a burden to society. They treated him like filth, making him wear rags, feeding him the cheapest and foul foods that no one else wanted. They thought because they had more money, or family connections that they were so much better than the poor little _orphan Tom Riddle_.

Well, they are in for a surprise.

The truth of the matter was, Muggles were helpless and weak. They had no magic, not like he did. Their pathetic ilk could be squashed like cockroaches under the heel of his boot, if he so desired it.

_And oh, how he desired it…_

Their money and family connections won't be able to save them from Lord Voldemort.

A slow sinister smile formed on his face as he watched flames burst from the windows of the Orphanage, black smoke billowing out into the night air. The poorest of the muggles would be the first to go; it was a mercy killing, really.

Never let it be said that Lord Voldemort couldn't be merciful.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Albus Dumbledore removed his half-moon spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose as the weight of the wizarding world once again fell upon his shoulders.

"Mrs. Riddle…" Professor Dumbledore began in a sympathetic tone

"Please don't call me that." She spat, feeling the weight of Tom's betrayal settle in her chest.

"Hermione, then. I think it would be prudent for you to remain at Hogwarts under the circumstances. Though your marriage vows are currently a form of protection, I fear that there will come a time where even that cannot save you, if he truly is becoming the monster you have shown me. I'll speak with Dippet immediately to have the floo connection severed as a precaution." Dumbledore continued in a grave tone.

Hermione nodded, tears making silent tracks down her cheeks as her eyes landed on her simple silver wedding band.

"It was not up to you to save him, Hermione. Tom made his own choices." The professor told her, knowing she was probably blaming herself for Tom's self-destruction.

"I just thought…" she started before she angrily swiped the tears from her eyes, "It doesn't matter now."

The professor watched her stand and make her way to his door before she looked back at him over her shoulder, "Will it be alright if I borrow the Room of Requirement for a while?"

"Of course. You'll be safe here, Hermione." He said as he stood to see her out, and in that moment, she felt like she was no longer alone.

She made her way up to the seventh floor corridor, having been excused for a few days in light of the circumstances. She collapsed on the bed, pulling her knees into her chest as she sobbed. Her life had changed so much in such a short period of time that she no longer recognized herself.

 

~~{0}~~

 

"My Lord" abraxas bowed, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. He had noticed as Tom approached, that there was something different about him.

"Who do we have inside the Ministry?" Tom snapped, growing impatient with his Knight's lack of progress.

Abraxas remained on his knees with his head bowed as he answered, "Arcturus and Pollux Black are loyal to our cause. Cygnus can arrange a meeting."

"Look at me when I speak to you!" Tom snarled, his magic pulsating wildly around him as his anger flared.

Abraxas felt a tingle of fear run down his spine as he slowly lifted his head to meet the Dark Lord's eyes, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight; his eyes were the color of _blood_.

"Yes, my lord." Abraxas answered, his voice quavering as he spoke.

"I can practically taste your fear, you reek of it." Tom smirked in satisfaction as he slowly walked in a circle around Abraxas' kneeling form looking down upon him.

He wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer, so Abraxas remained silent.

"See to it that Cygnus gets this message; The Department of Magical Families has a list of all Muggleborn wizards and witches currently registered in Britain. _I want that list_. Do not fail me." Tom commanded.

"It shall be done, my Lord." Abraxas said.

"Good, now, get out of my sight." Tom spat as he spun on his heel and disapparated with a crack.

 

~~{0}~~

 

Hermione spent the better part of two days under the covers, only getting up to use the loo and eat a few bites from the trays of food that appeared on her side table at mealtimes. Part of her wished that she could just stay hidden away in there forever. It was on the fourth day that Hermione finally forced herself to leave the room, and venture down to the Great Hall for breakfast. She slipped into the seat beside Professor Dumbledore, and he met her eyes with a kind smile.

"It seems that in all the darkness there is still a ray of light." The Professor said as he pushed the Daily Prophet towards her.

She scanned the front page, and her eyes widened.

 

_**Proclamation no.1682 Overturned** _

_After severe pushback from the community, The Board of Governors has reconvened to review and investigate claims that Proclamation no. 1682 has infringed upon the rights of wizarding families to uphold traditional marriage and betrothal contracts on behalf of their children. After a call for a vote, the proclamation was overturned by a wide margin. A statement provided by Romilda Cattermole, the director of the Department of Magical Families, states that the department will begin accepting requests for marriage dissolutions if they were performed as a result of the now overturned proclamation, beginning August 22, 1947._

 

Hermione felt her stomach drop as she read the words printed on the page. She should be feeling elated at the news that this ridiculous law was finally being repealed; she would be _free_. Instead, all she felt was numb. Her marriage to Tom would be erased, along with every memory she ever shared with him. _Along with their child_. The thought hit Hermione like a punch to the gut.

"Excuse me, Professor." She whispered quietly, standing from her seat and trying to hide the tears that were making their way down her cheeks as she made her way out of the great hall. When she finally reached her office, She knew what needed to be done. She pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote a letter, and then brought it to the owlry before she lost her nerve.

Hermione felt bile rise in the back of her throat as the owl swooped away with her letter; there was no turning back now. She ran back up to the Room of Requirement, not ready to face the truth; the truth that the love of her life was Lord Voldemort. She summoned a vial of dreamless sleep from her beaded bag, quickly drank its contents, and curled up in her bed.

 

~~{0}~~

 

It was dark when she woke, and she cast a quick _tempus_ charm telling her it was close to midnight. She sat up in her bed, her hand automatically still falling to her stomach, only to be faced with the harsh reminder that she was no longer pregnant. She let out a strangled sob, and picked up the glass sitting by her bed and threw it at hard as she could at the fireplace, not even feeling satisfaction upon hearing it shatter. She made a decision then, knowing that she would never be able to move forward until she saw him one last time. Slightly comforted that their marriage vows would still protect her, she pulled on her clothes and made her way down to the apparition point just outside of the Castle's ancient wards.

The house was dark and quiet when she stepped into the living room from outside; it felt cold and empty, not warm and inviting as it had once been. She doubted he was sleeping, considering he would know immediately if someone was in his home, more likely he wasn't even there. She made her way through the darkened hall, and climbed the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest with each step. She stopped just outside their bedroom door, and held back a sob at the memories, both good and the bad that had happened in that room. She continued on, until she noticed a soft light coming from one of the open doors off the hall; _the nursery_.

Her heart clenched at the thought of seeing that room again, but her feet kept steadily moving towards it. When she approached the open door, her breath caught in her throat. Tom was standing in the room, with his back to her, looking down at the crib. She flinched when he spoke.

"Why did you come back?" he asked in a voice that sounded so fragile that she couldn't bring herself to answer him right away.

"I just…I needed…" she stammered, not even knowing herself what it was that she needed.

"What more do you _want_ from me, Hermione?" he said in exasperation turning to face her, his crimson gaze falling on her once more, reminding her who he was becoming.

"I wanted to know that it was real! That you actually felt something! That you…" she trailed off, getting angry with herself for appearing so weak in front of him.

He watched her, his face betraying nothing of his emotion. He lifted his hand and tossed a crumpled piece of paper at her. She picked it up with shaking fingers, and her stomach lurched when she saw that it was a letter from the Ministry notifying him of her request to have their marriage dissolved.

 

_Mister Riddle,_

_I am writing to inform you that your spouse, Hermione Riddle, has petitioned the Department of Magical families to dissolve your marriage on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. With the recent vote to overturn Proclamation no. 1682, we could not find any cause to object. If you would like to contest this petition, a hearing will be scheduled for August 25, 1947. If both parties are not present, the marriage will be dissolved._

_We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience,_

_~Romilda Cattermole_

_Department of Magical Families_

 

"It doesn't matter, does it? Its over." He spat venomously

She choked back a sob, reaching her hand out towards him, "Tom…I…"

He closed the distance between them quickly, grabbing her wrist, and squeezing it tightly, "Say my name!" he hissed, a sinister smile forming on his lips at a look of fear that crossed her face.

"I don't…" She pleaded, trying to loosen his painful grip on her wrist.

"Say it!" he shouted, and then pulled her close enough so that he could whisper in her ear, "Say it; what is my name, Hermione?"

She was trembling now, feeling darkness swirling around him, threatening to suffocate her, "V…Voldemort."

He shoved her away from him violently, and sneered down at her

"You better run, little bird, _while you still can_ …" he whispered as she backed out of the room, practically tripping over her feet to run down the stairs and out the door. She knew that until their marriage was officially dissolved, he still technically couldn't truly hurt her, but she knew in that moment that the man she had loved was dead. Tom had chosen the darkness, as she knew he always would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah…that happened. Don't throw things at me! There is more coming, and I hope that you all will see this through to the end. Only a few chapters left now I think…(not sure how many a few is…but yeah. Getting there!) Please leave me a review and let me know what you think! I love hearing you guys' thoughts! xo


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a couple chapters left! Ahhhh! I want to THANK YOU all so much for your love of this story!

The next few days seemed to fly by as Hermione threw herself into her research on time travel. She was growing increasingly frustrated as she kept running into dead-ends. It was likely that no one had ever found themselves in her unique position before, and so naturally, there was no information to be found in a book. Sighing, she stood from her desk and was about to go and speak with Professor Dumbledore when an owl flew to her office window carrying a letter. When she saw the official Ministry seal, her stomach gave a lurch.

_Dear Miss Hermione Jones,_

_I am writing to inform you that your request for marital dissolution was not contested, and has been granted by the Department of Magical Families, effective immediately. See enclosed copies of paperwork for your records._

_Sincerely,_

_Romilda Cattermole_

_Department of Magical Families_

Hermione's eyes flew to her left hand as she watched the small silver band dissolve, and she let out a shaky breath, once again holding back tears.

It was over.

The sobering realization hit her then, that she was no longer protected from Voldemort. She crumpled the letter, and with whispered  _incendio_  she watched it burned to ash before heading back to her room on the seventh floor.

She dropped heavily into an oversized armchair, and rested her head in her hands. Her eyes fell on her small beaded bag, and she pulled it towards her, remembering she had placed Hufflepuff's cup, one of Tom's horcruxes, inside. She pulled it out, and felt a heaviness descend over her as it made contact with her skin. Revulsion filled her as she gazed at it, remembering how satisfying it had felt to plunge the basilisk fang into it…

It was as if time stood still in that moment, and the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. True, there was no written information in a book to tell her how to get home, but it didn't matter, because suddenly, she realized that she already knew. She bolted out of the chair, grabbing her wand and the beaded bag before running as fast as she could to Dumbledore's office.

 

~~{0}~~

 

"Hermione, it's far too dangerous. I cannot let you do this." Professor Dumbledore said as he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Albus, this is the only way. I have to  _try_." Hermione pleaded

"You'll be killed! You're a Muggleborn, for Merlin's sake!" he argued.

"I'm dead anyway! You know that as well as I do. If I am to die, then  _I am taking him with me_." Hermione snapped angrily.

The Professor sighed, "You'll do this with or without my help, won't you." He said, more of a statement than a question.

"Yes. Please Albus. Just open the door." Hermione said softly, reaching across his desk to cover his hand with her own.

He nodded finally, and she could tell that he was warring with himself over the decision to help her.

"Meet me there tonight, after curfew." He said in a clear dismissal

She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile, and she squeezed his hand before she stood to leave. As she reached the door, she turned back to look at him over her shoulder, "Thank you, Albus."

He met her eyes with his watery blue ones, and she saw a fierce glint of determination in them. She knew in that moment that he understood the sacrifice that needed to be made.

 

~~{0}~~

 

She swept her eyes around her room for what she hoped would be the last time in 1947. She had changed back into the clothes she had arrived there in, dirty as they were, and secured the time turner around her neck and her beaded bag at hip as she held her wand out in front of her, casting a disillusionment charm on herself. She crept silently out into the halls and down to the second floor where Albus Dumbledore stood waiting. Even through the enchantment, he sensed her presence.

"I had hoped you would change your mind." He said tiredly as he eyed the seeming empty space where she stood.

When she didn't answer, he continued, "The chamber is open. When I lift the wards, enter with extreme caution; that thing could be anywhere." He warned.

She nodded, even though he couldn't see her, and she watched as he lifted his wand and began to take down the powerful wards he'd erected over the girl's lavatory to keep wayward students from wandering into the chamber. When the last ward was broken, she took a deep breath, and held her wand in front of her, keeping her eyes trained on the floor. Once she was inside the lavatory, she heard the door click shut behind her, and the powerful force of Magic sweeping over the walls as he erected the wards once more. A shiver ran down her spine when she realized that if this didn't work, she had no way to escape. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart and aimed her wand between her eyes and whispered  _Oculos Caecos_. She felt her vision blur and then fade completely, leaving her plunged in darkness. Her heart began to thud even faster as panic began to well up until she took a few steadying breaths and focused on the sounds around her. She reached out a hand and felt the porcelain of one of the sinks, knowing that the opening to the chamber was just beyond it. She took a few small steps towards it, her hands feeling around her as he feet reached the edge. This was it; she had to let herself fall. She took another step, and felt herself fall until she landed on a slime-covered slide, moving her quickly down into the bowels of the castle. She landed on a pile of something hard and sharp, and as she stood, she could feel it crunching and cracking beneath her feet. She listened closely, and heard nothing but silence. She crouched down and reached out to feel what it was that she had landed on, and she drew her hand back sharply as if she had been burnt when she felt the unmistakable shape of a skull; a  _human_ skull. She wasn't aware of anyone else besides Myrtle being killed by the Basilisk, but it had been there long before Tom Riddle ever came along, and it was possible that it ate quite a few muggleborns that never made it into the history books. Hermione shuddered, and walked until she came in contact with a wall that was made from rough stone. She traced her fingers along it until she reached an opening that felt like a round metal door. She moved through it, climbing down the ladder until she stood in what she was sure must be the large antechamber with the bust of Salazar Slytherin. When she listened closely, she could hear the gentle movement of water, and she could smell the dank wetness that she recalled from when she had first arrived. There was still one thing she needed, and she made her way as quietly as she could towards the bust of Salazar Slytherin, using her hand as a guide as she moved from snake statue to snake statue. Just as she reached the front of the chamber, she heard it, and her blood ran cold; a hiss. He heart began to beat wildly in her chest as she plucked her beaded beg from her hip with shaking fingers, and pulled out Hufflepuff's cup, setting it on the stone floor in front of her as she knelt down. She could hear it now, slithering closer, hissing at her. She knew that if she couldn't see it, its stare couldn't kill her, but that did not mean that it couldn't  _eat_ her. Her breath was coming heavy now, knowing she had only moments before it was bearing down on her, and she flexed her hand sharply, saying, " _Accio Basilisk Fang_!", willing her magic to bring one to her hand. She was trembling now as she felt the great snake's presence rear up behind her, hissing threateningly. She could have cried with relief when she felt the cool smooth fang land in her palm, and she wasted no time as she plunged it into the cup while simultaneously activating the time turner. The room began to spin around her just before the Basilisk's fangs could penetrate her skin, and she felt herself falling into nothingness until she passed out.

 

~~{0}~~

 

"Hermione! Hermione!" a familiar voice cried as she stirred. Her eyes fluttered, and her hand flew to her eyes, noting that the blindness spell was no longer in place. She caught a flash of red hair before she was swept up into a strong embrace, and felt warm lips press against her own.

She pulled away at the wrongness of the sensation, still trying to get her bearings.

"Ron?" she asked questioningly as she looked up at him in disbelief.

His ears were pink at the tips from the perceived rejection, but concern was still clearly visible on his face.

"Yeah, were you expecting someone else?" he snapped as he helped her to her feet. His words stung, but she knew he had always been very sensitive.

"No…I..." she stammered, words failing her on how to explain everything that had happened to her over the course of months in what seemed like a millisecond to him.

"Are you alright? You look… _different_." He finally said taking in her appearance for the first time. She was dressed the same of course, and they were all exhausted from living on the run, but this was different.  _She_ was different.

Hermione laughed mirthlessly, "No, I'm not alright. I'm not sure I'll ever be alright again." She said quietly as she leaned against the wall and slid to the floor.

"How long was I gone?" she asked looking him in the eye for the first time.

A look of confusion crossed his face, "Gone? Hermione, you never left." He said shoving his hands into his pockets as he stood before her.

Her eyes shifted until they fell on the cup, now cracked and destroyed, leaking a viscous black fluid.

"What are you talking about, Hermione? What happened to you?" He probably thought she had experienced some dark vision as he had when he had destroyed the locket.

"Ron, I was sent back to 1947. Everything's changed. You have to tell me everything you know. How many horcruxes are left?"

"That was the last one…that I know of anyway. What do you mean you were  _sent back_?" Ron asked kneeling down in front of her, taking her hand in his. The look in her eyes was making him anxious.

"When I destroyed the cup, I accidentally touched the time turner. I ended up here, but in 1947. I was there for months, Ron. I managed to get back just barely in the knick of time, but I need to know what's happened." She said urgently, "The things I remember happening, may not have happened the same way due to my presence in the past. Please tell me, Ron."

Ron nodded, looking decidedly uncomfortable, "I think we better find Dumbledore."

"He's alive?" Hermione said in shock, her hand flying to her mouth, "What about Harry? Is he-"

"Who?" Ron asked, as he gripped her arm and pulled her to her feet. Hermione swayed looking as if she were about to be sick.

"Come on, I'll get you out of here." He said and she leaned on him gratefully as he led her out of the chamber, and back into the upper levels of Hogwarts. Half of the castle was in ruins, and it was obvious a battle was underway just outside it's walls.

He led her to the corridor just outside of the hospital wing, which was currently over-run with the injured, and Ron turned to her, "Are you well enough to cast a Patronus? I think we'll need one to get to Dumbledore."

Hermione stared blankly at him for a moment, wondering if she indeed had any happy memories left enough to cast a patronus after everything that she's endured. She closed her eyes, and her mind drifted back to the day she came home to find Tom standing on a ladder painting the nursery. Her heart swelled with love at the memory when he turned to her and smiled. As she cast her patronus, a large Python that had an uncanny resemblance to Nagini, erupted from the end of her wand, slithering off to find Professor Dumbledore.

Ron's eyes widened in shock, "Your patronus is a  _snake_?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione was just as shocked as he was, but she smiled at how right it felt, grateful to see Nagini again, even if only for a moment.

"Yes, Ron, it is." She snapped, and he looked away from her suitably chastised.

 

~~{0}~~

 

"Hello Albus." Hermione smiled as the Headmaster stepped towards her, leaving Ron gaping between them.

"It worked." He said in surprise, his brows lifting practically to his hairline.

"Yes, it worked. The cup is destroyed." Hermione answered, "And the others?"

"Also destroyed, even the Necronimicon, though that one put up quite a bit more of a fight." He answered, holding up his blackened hand, "It is only  _him_  that remains now." The Headmaster said looking at her carefully.

She nodded, "And Harry?" she asked, and the Headmaster shook his head.

"Tom did things differently this time around, most likely in an attempt to avoid the same fate. Rather than killing James and Lily Potter after Harry had been born, he killed Lily Potter before she could conceive. In fact, he murdered her entire family." Dumbledore said sadly.

"Harry was never born." Hermione said feeling her heart clench painfully in her chest.

"No." Dumbledore confirmed watching the guilt wash over her face.

"Her name was on the list." Dumbledore added sadly.

"What list?" Hermione's head shot up looking at him in confusion.

"The Ministry, within the department of Magical Families, keeps a list of all muggleborn wizards and witches. It is charmed so that every time a wizard or witch is born to a muggle family, their names are added to the list. Voldemort stole that list. I think you know what he was able to do with it." The Headmaster added gravely.

Hermione felt he knees give out from under her.

"You mustn't blame yourself, Hermione, he made his own choices." The Headmaster said quietly, reiterating his words to her from long ago.

"Why should Hermione feel guilty? What's she got to do with all this?" Ron asked in confusion, having watched the exchange between them.

"Do you want to tell him, or shall I?" The headmaster asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Tell me what?" Ron snapped impatiently looking back and forth between them.

"Ron, Tom and I…" she began, her voice shaking with what she was about to confess.

"Tom? Who's Tom?" Ron spat

"Tom Riddle. I believe you know him as  _Lord Voldemort_." The Headmaster interjected.

Ron turned looking at Hermione sharply in surprise.

"Tom and I were married under the Marriage law of 1947, not of our own free will, you must understand." She admitted, averting her eyes, not wanting to see the judgment there.

"You're… _married_  to Voldemort?! But you're a muggleborn!" Ron shouted, angered that the woman he had one day hoped to call his own had already been claimed.

"Not anymore, the marriage was dissolved when the law was overturned. He knows."

Ron looked ill as thoughts of what Hermione had more than likely done with the Dark Lord swirled around his brain.

"It's time we finish this, Miss Granger." The headmaster said bringing her attention back to him. "We must strike now while he is vulnerable to attack."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So she's back! In this timeline, the Necronomicon (not the ring) horcrux cursed Dumbledore's hand. There was no accidental horcrux this time, since there was no Harry. And yeah…no Harry Potter! Tom will still fully resemble is Lord Voldemort's form, not his Tom Riddle form in this future, but I am attributing that to him messing around with the dark magic of the Necronimicon, rather than killing Harry and Subsequently being resurrected. He is still the same Evil Lord Voldemort we come to know in the books, though rather than obsessing over Killing harry Potter, he is still pushing his anti-muggle and Muggleborn agenda, and trying to take over the Ministry and Hogwarts because he wants absolute power. So that's where we are! There'll only be about 2 or 3 chapters left! Please leave me a review! xo


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so WOW…I thought maybe there would be a few chapters left, but, based on what I had planned, it all came together (in my opinion) flawlessly in just this one chapter. I'll let you all read it, and I'll put another note at the end so as not to spoil anything. I want to THANK YOU all so very much for your kind words, favorites, and follows as I wrote this story, it means a lot! I hope you all will check out some of my other fics, as they are all mostly Tomione! I'd love to hear your thoughts on my ending.

Hermione instructed Ron to check on the injured as the Headmaster swiftly headed back into battle. She ran down to what was once the defense classroom, and whipped out her wand casting _Alohomora_ on the door and stepped inside. A glass cabinet stood at the far side of the room, which she recalled had always been there, used to display dark artifacts used in the first great war against the Dark Wizard, Grindelwald. She shattered the glass, and removed a silver dagger that sat inside a small holster. She quickly secured to dagger to her outer thigh, and also grabbed the small round metal ball that could almost pass for a snitch at first glance, though it was much more deadly; it was made of a dark metal and instead of feather wings, a set of impossibly sharp spinning blades emerged when it was thrown at a target.

Gripping her wand tightly, she left the room, taking steady breaths as she moved towards the loud booms that seemed to shake the very foundation of the castle. It was now or never. She didn't allow herself to worry about the injured students, or who may have already been killed during the battle, her only focus was finding Lord Voldemort. As she emerged into the courtyard, smoke obscured her vision, and she had to quickly duck as a jet of red light streamed past her, hitting the castle wall within inches of where she had only just stood. She crawled on her belly, past the corpses of fallen students, desperately trying not to look at their faces. When she finally reached a large piece of castle wall that had collapsed, she placed her back to it before getting her bearings and peering over it to shoot stunners at the approaching Death Eaters.

She took down three of them before a _Reducto_ hit the stone wall she had been shielding herself behind, sending her sprawling backwards and knocking the wind out of her. One of the Death Eaters, Dolohov, approached her, sneering down at her as he raised his wand, an unforgivable poised to fall from his lips. Before he could utter the words, Hermione grasped the small iron ball, and threw it at him, turning away in disgust as the metal blades slashed his throat and he collapsed at her feet. She vomited, having never been the direct cause of someone's death before, and she steadfastly reminded herself that he wouldn't have hesitated to kill her. It had been self-defense. The ball returned to her, sticky with his blood, and she gagged again as she vanished the evidence with a quietly whispered _Scourgify_. She saw the edge of the Forbidden Forest just a few hundred yards away, and jumped up quickly sprinting for the cover that the trees would provide, dodging curses as she went.

Several Death Eaters followed her into the forest, and she took them out with stunners one by one. She kept moving deeper into the forest until she saw a clearing up ahead. From her position, partially hidden behind a large tree, she could just make out the form of Albus Dumbledore dueling with Lord Voldemort. She watched in awe as curses were volleyed back and forth, both wizards moving fluidly in a deadly dance, when she felt the tip of a wand press against the side of her throat.

"Don't even try it." The familiar baritone drawled as she turned her gaze on the black wand digging into her neck.

"Severus" she breathed. In her original timeline, he had been a spy for the Order, a man whom Dumbledore had trusted implicitly, but whose side was he on now?

"I've waited twenty years for this." He said menacingly, and her heart began to beat faster in her chest.

"I don't understand…" she gasped when his wand burrowed deeper into her throat painfully.

"He took something from me; something very precious. Now I'm going to return the favor." He snarled through gritted teeth.

She suddenly understood then, "Lily…" she whispered

Snape spun her around and backhanded her, causing her to fall to the ground in shock. The look on his face was murderous, "Don't you _dare_ speak her name." he spat

Hermione began to scramble back from him, trying to calm the panic that was welling in her chest.

"I'm on your side, Severus" she said pleadingly, willing him to understand that her mission was to stop the Dark Lord.

He snorted, "I'm on _no one's_ side. I have served the Dark Lord for twenty years, biding my time until I could take my revenge. Dumbledore never cared about anyone but his precious _Gryffindors_ " he sneered with disgust.

"I'm here to stop him, I-" she pleaded, continuing to slink away from him, her elbows sinking into the mud.

He sneered down at her again, "That's irrelevant. You're heroics will get you nowhere, Miss Granger. Nothing can stop him, not even me. I do not have any illusions that I will survive another day, _however_ , before I die, I will take from him the only thing he holds dear, so that he may suffer as I have suffered."

Hermione was panting now, confusion evident on her face, "His horcruxes…we've destroyed them…" she muttered as realization began to dawn on her.

"No, I'm speaking of something _far_ more precious… _You_ , Miss Granger, or should I say, _Mrs. Riddle_." He said as he pointed his wand at her heart.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock, and before she allowed his words to sink in, she kicked her foot up into his groin and watched him fall to his knees, scrambling away from him and taking cover behind another tree, her wand shaking in front of her. Just as she was about to peer around to see where he was, a jet of green light flew past her, just inches from her face, and she began firing curses back. She knew one of them hit its mark when she heard his grunt of pain, and her eyes whipped back towards the clearing just in time to see Albus Dumbledore fall.

"No!" she cried without thinking, as a pair of crimson eyes turned to meet her gaze.

Time seemed to stop as she stared back at him, powerless to turn away, as a rush of memories flooded her mind.

" _Sectumsempra_!"

She never heard the crack of the twig behind her before the curse hit its mark; and then the pain came. Her knees buckled beneath her, blood seeping from the deep cuts across her back.

With a flash of green light, Snape fell dead beside her, his eyes open, staring vacantly towards the sky. She felt herself being lowered to the ground, and she could do nothing to stop the tears that were leaking from her eyes.

"Hermione?" his voice was so quiet, that she turned her face slightly to look at him. He was every bit as horrifying as she'd remembered, but there was something about how his voice shook, just a little…What was it Snape had said?

" _Episky_ " he shouted in frustration, pointing his wand at her wounds, though they continued to bleed.

"Hermione, I can't…" he began to say, and moved his long pale bony fingers to cup her face. Such an odd gesture for someone so evil.

She met his eyes again, and for just a moment, he was there. _Her Tom_. She covered his hand with hers, and whispered, "It's okay, it doesn't hurt much." It was true she realized, her legs were growing numb, and the blinding pain she had first experienced was leaving her.

She surprised him then when her hand reached up to his face, and he closed his eyes at the feel of her palm against his cheek.

"Why do you have so much hate?" she asked

"Shhh…don't talk." He said as he brushed a curl back behind her ear.

She chuckled as it turned into a cough, blood tinting her pale lips, "You speak so many bloody languages and yet you never want to talk."

He frowned at her words until his eyes fell on the small silver necklace that encircled her throat. The hand that had been cupping her cheek moved to the small pewter thimble that rested on a delicate chain, and his eyes softened as he met her gaze once more.

"You're wearing the thimble." He said a hint of surprise in his tone.

"Of course, you prat, I always wear it, I've always _worn_ it. _I've always loved you_." She whispered as a look of pain crossed his face and he bowed his head.

She felt something wet land on her fingers, and she brushed the tear away that had fallen from his eyes.

"Please don't leave me…" he managed in a choked whisper, memorizing every detail of her face, until he felt pain blossom in his side. He looked down at the dagger that was sticking out of his side, her hand still grasping the silver handle. A look of sadness flickered across her face, but when she met his eyes once more, there was only forgiveness. He pulled the dagger from his side, and it fell to the ground with a dull thud.

"I don't intend to." She whispered before taking her final breath, and falling into light.

 

oOo0oOo

 

The bright light that was blinding her began to fade, enough that she could make out her surroundings. She heard the whistle, and turned to see a train pulling into the station.

Was this King's cross? It looked like it, yet…not. There were people she didn't recognize boarding the train, and she looked around wondering what she was supposed to do, when she saw him.

He looked like he did when they first met, sitting on a bench, staring down at his hands, looking utterly lost.

She approached him hesitantly and stopped just a few steps away.

"Tom?" she asked hesitantly, and his head shot up in her direction as relief flooded his face. He stood quickly, closing the distance between them and pulling her into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione, I'm so sorry…Please forgive me…" he mumbled against her neck, and she held him tightly against her, feeling herself smile against his cheek.

"Of course I forgive you, I love you." She said twining her fingers with his as he pulled back to look at her.

"Where are we?" he asked, and a throat cleared behind him.

Tom and Hermione both turned to see who had approached them, and Hermione gasped in shock, "Harry?"

He nodded, smiling back at her, surrounded by a golden glow.

"How are you here? You hadn't even been born and then-" she began as he held up his hand to silence her.

"Time doesn't exist here, Hermione. You remember me, so I am here." He said cryptically.

"But where exactly is _here_?" she asked, looking back and forth between Tom and Harry.

"You're in the _in-between_ , as I like to call it. You're not alive, but you're not quite dead." Harry explained.

"So this is limbo." Tom answered, and Harry nodded.

"I suppose that is another name for it."

"So what happens now?" Hermione asked, gripping Tom's fingers tighter.

Harry smiled, "You just get on the train."

A look of fear crossed Tom's face, and he turned to Hermione.

She held up their joined hands and met Tom's eyes, "Together." She said, and as she turned back to Harry, he was already gone.

Another train pulled up to the platform, and they watched more strangers boarding. As the flow of bodies slowed, a small boy with Dark curly hair and caramel eyes stepped out, reaching out his hand.

If Hermione had any breath, it would have caught in her throat; for she knew, without a doubt, that this child was hers and Tom's.

She knelt down in front of the child, tears flowing down her face as the child ran into her arms.

Tom watched as Hermione cradled the boy, sobbing, and realization dawned on him before he dropped to his knees beside her.

"Is that…is he?" Tom asked not able to form the words.

The boy smiled at Tom over Hermione's shoulder, and hissed out a greeting in Parseltongue, and Tom laughed in surprise.

"What did he say?" Hermione turned wiping the tears from her eyes to look at Tom.

Tom pulled Hermione to her feet and picked up the small boy in his arms, "He called me _father_." He said as he dropped a kiss on Hermione's head and looked back at his son in wonder.

The boy hissed again, and this time, Tom nodded without fear, taking Hermione's hand in his.

"He says it's time to go." Tom answered, as he stepped onto the train with his wife and child, feeling complete for the first time in his life.

"Everything's going to be okay." She whispered quietly against his neck, as she stared into eyes that were so like hers.

"I know." He answered as the train pulled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First – I want to say that the death scene was inspired by the ending of The English Patient. It is such a brilliant movie, and I've borrowed other scenes from it for another fic as well (Accidents and Unforeseen Consequences) because it is just so EPIC, and Ralph Fiennes totally has Tom moments in it...To see this particular scene, Youtube "The Thimble (The English Patient)". 
> 
> So! What did you think?! I will admit, that from the time I started writing this fic, I had planned for it to end this way. As I've cryptically mentioned in previous author's notes, Tom had already created 4 horcruxes by the time he met Hermione in the past, so a straight up HEA was truly never in the cards…however, I felt that all of the pain and suffering and his absolute fear of death was the necessary catalyst that turned him fully into Lord Voldemort. Hermione's destiny and mission was always to stop him. She did fall in love with him along the way, and even if he never really showed it, or understood it for what it was, he loved her too. This is also why, despite having the list of Muggleborns, he never goes after her. He loved her, and she needed to live in order to travel to the past. Snape figured it out when she was on the list, and and obvious target, yet he never ordered her to be killed. It becomes evident to Voldemort/Tom how much she truly meant to him when he is faced with her death. And yes, she stabs him, but she had to do it…and he forgives her for it. Then, they find each other again at King's cross, and are reunited with the child that should have been, had things gone differently. In death, Tom found what he never had in life; peace. 
> 
> So there you have it. I really hope you liked it, and I would love to hear your feedback! Once again, thank you all for reading! xo


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